I’m not sure what’s the best part about this picture. Perhaps it’s the shirt, which is the point of this post. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m five years old and sucking my thumb. Then there’s the way my shirt matches my socks and sweats — can I call them pants if the hem doesn’t reach my ankles? I like how loudly this picture screams “mid-1990s.” So many pixels full of fun.
I don’t remember the circumstances of receiving this shirt. I recall opening it as a gift. Kudos, family, for planning such a humorous present.
But I know my grandma has a matching sweatshirt. (Hooray, genetics!) I also remember when my family used to challenge me to silence, thinking I surely couldn’t keep my mouth shut for an hour. Note: I could, and I was well-paid for it. I like to think I was an enterprising child.
I am aware I talk a lot. Rest assured, I continue to refine this quality so it may be productive, not a nuisance. While I work on that, please, have another laugh at the picture. I also like to think I have a good sense of humor.