P.Y.T.

The death of a genius is about the only thing that can break me out of my quiet streak over the last little while. LOTS has been going on in mini-ville, but there is time for that later.

The boys and I had dance party in the kitchen after dinner tonight to an assortment of Michael Jackson songs. I tried to explain how important he was to #1 ... I think he understood a little ... I got a "Mommy, I like this music!" Then he climbed up on the bar and jumped to the floor before flailing his body in all directions ... "dancing." As weird as Michael Jackson got over the years, there is such a special place in my heart for ALL of the kid memories that accompany his songs. If I had to pick soundtracks of my life Thriller covers the earlier years and his later albums had songs that intertwined with the dark hours of Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me by The Cure. Puberty is a horrible thing to do to a kid. But back to Michael Jackson ... pick a song and I can tell you what I was doing ... and most of it involves my family, The Cleavers. That is what Mr. Right calls us.

I vividly remember the day we bought Thriller as a family. We were just arriving in Chicago to surprise my Grandparents on their anniversary. We stopped for dinner at a Bennigan's restaurant and went into a music store, that was next door. We HAD to find something to mix with Abba's Super Trooper ... we had listened to it for the previous 7 hours ... thanks Ward and June. As we pulled out of the parking lot all five heads were bobbing to the cold hard truth that Billy Jean was not my lover. It was awesome. We were awesome. Our station wagon was awesome.

To my siblings that shared matching parachute pants with me ... and breakdanced on the basement floor ... with one white glove ... and still smile on these memories -- I'm thinking of you today. As I remind #1 and #2 often ... especially as they are beating on each other ... siblings rock! I wonder what the soundtrack of their childhood lives will be? I'll be dammed if it's The Wiggles.
xoxo