It's hard to believe, but that hoochy mama in the mini-dress is five-year-old Allison on moving day. I was dressed for the heavy lifting in a blue frock with a catepillar applique, my pearls and my beloved yellow and purple high top converse. I loved those shoes so much I gave them a nickname, my banana shoes. My admiration for fugly footwear rubbed off on Mary and she begged me to loan them to her. But she was only allowed to wear those shoes on special occassions, like when she went ten minutes without hitting me in the face. I bet there's a companion photograph around here somewhere in a diaper and those shoes.
My family was moving from Brooklyn Park to jolly old New Brighton. My parents were tired of their long commute and crappy schools. I'd be moving to a new neighborhood with no friends just in time for my sixth birthday and a couple weeks before the start of a new school year. I was scared and anxious. Good thing I had a pair of banana shoes to break the ice.
He's about as helpful as the lady in pearls. Good thing he's cute.
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