Welcome to another Monday adventure in voyeurism prompted by Erik, who is curious about how his blogging buddies looked as children. I've chosen age five as the best "kid year" for Tiggerlane. Before buck teeth emerged, the lack of coordination and the pleasantries of puberty. The first photo is my favorite - I'm all jacked up on Easter chocolate - documentation of my first "high." See those cute braided double-pigtails? As mentioned here, I was blessed with uncertain heritage and VERY curly hair which grew to be lengthy, and heavy. My parents weren't hippies, but their love of my hair kept them from cutting any major length off until I was in the fifth grade. The FIFTH GRADE, people. Why? Well, that's the year I contracted chickenpox. Four feet of hair, gallons of calamine lotion, and itchy spots made for a nasty combination. And finally, Princess Tiggerlane, in all her Halloween glory. My mother made the outfit in the first two photos, as well as this one. Check out that '70s couch! This photo always reminds me of my favorite childhood fantasy. As an adoptee, I've been fascinated with the unlimited possibilities of my heritage. When I would get angry at the parental units for some perceived injustice, I would fantasize that my birthparents were royalty. I imagined they had brought me to America for safe-keeping, until the time was right to notify me of my noble heritage and take me away to my place as a princess in their family. As I got older, the idea of being a Mafia princess replaced this childhood fantasy.
I think I could pull it off either way, don't you?