This probably wasn’t taken on Mother’s Day. Actually I think we were at Disney Land around Christmas time. From what little I remember we had just exited “The World of Tomorrow” exhibit. The bag that Mom is carrying says “Let natural gas carry your load.” Pretty slick marketing for 1955, and superior to “Brylcream – a little dab’l do ya.” As you can see John and Jeff have their Dad’s inspired hair-dos. Dad’s idea of a haircut invovled electric clippers and the shortest distance between two ears.
We were all styling. Mom and Mary Ellen in “peddlepushers” and Jeff and John in rolled up 4 inch cuffs. I do believe those are PF Flyers on my feet. John, no doubt, was wearing his patrol boots. Patrol boots as we know are not able to stop a garden pitchfork. I never needed a stitch til I was 21, but John was another story. Falling down stairwells before there were stairs, smacking his head on the flagstone hearth, running in to one of the neighboor hood girls going the opposite way around the willow tree. Was it Betty Boop Green?
Mom had her hands full with us. I remember her calling “Jeff, George, John, Pete…” She would get so flustered with us she would temporarily loose the ability to call us by name, so she just started thru the list”Jeff, George, John, Pete..” I guess she thought she would eventually get to a name we would respond to and stop whatever it was we were doing. She never did take us to the orphanage, but I know she threatened us on more than one occasion. Since Dad had the only car at work I think we felt pretty safe. Well, at least until those dreaded words came “WAIT TIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME!”
That always stopped us in our tracks.