Do you remember the rest of the line?   On Twitter last night my husband challenged me to remember.  Apparently a friend challenged him and he didn’t remember.  (I didn’t ask why 2 grown men were discussing Sesame Street episodes.)   My husband knows that there is very little about old school Sesame Street that I forget.

Of course I remember.  It’s “a loaf of bread, a container of milk and a stick of butter.” I loved that clip and remember it vividly.  Maybe it was because of the little girl’s afro or her big yellow bow, but I think was because of the adorable way she said “a stick of butter.”

© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

When I was a junior at ASU, I lived in the sorority dorm with several of my sorority sisters.  I had just pledged Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority at the end of my sophomore year, so I was a neophyte and “geeked,” as we used to say, to be Greek.   Almost every Friday night one of the the black fraternities or sororities threw a party in the student union to raise money and before that party we had our own party on our AKA floor while we were getting dressed.  Inevitably we would all be wearing some outfit comprised of pink and green, our sororities colors.  Even sorors who didn’t live in the dorm would come over early to get ready with us and get hyped to go out.

Music blasting from someone’s room, we would form a line down the hallway practicing one of our sorority’s “party strolls.”  If you haven’t seen it, it’s kind of hard to explain, but each sorority or fraternity has a routine (or few) that they do at parties while moving in a line around the room.   Usually it involves dance steps, hand movements, stepping and party chats.   One of our favorite songs to stroll to was Going Back to Cali.  Whenever I hear that song, I’m transported back to Palo Verde Main’s dorm floor with my sorority sisters partying down the hall and yelling “Skee-Wee!”  Those were the best of times!

(click image to play music)

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

This actually happened almost a year ago, but it still cracks me up whenever I think about it.

We were at the W Hotel in Buckhead having a fancy dinner with our kids to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary.  In the course of normal dinner conversation my husband picked up his wine glass, smelled it, and decided that it smelled too dusty for him and asked for another glass.   Now, I had been married to this man for 15 years at that point and had never seen him smell a glass before, but apparently he says that he does it all the time because dusty glasses are a pet peeve of his.  I started making fun of him because I really think my husband is going to be a crazy old man; I mean some of his current behaviors point in that direction.  I had the kids cracking up by painting a verbal picture of their dad sitting in a corner rocking chair smelling glasses, rocking madly and mumbling to himself.

My husband was not amused and just said, “Yo momma.”

Actually he frequently using this comeback to me when he can’t think of anything else to say and even says it to my son.  My son responds with, “You know, you’re talking about your wife and she’s standing right there.”

Well, that night I had a comeback of my own.   Out of the depths of my memory bank I pulled out a little ditty that I hadn’t said since I was about 9 years old living on the South Side of Chicago and recited it to my husband with requisite finger wagging and facial attitude.

Yo Momma,

Yo Daddy,

Yo greasy Granny,

Got a hole in her panties,

Got a big behind like Frankenstein,

Going beep-beep-beep down Sesame Street!

And then I started laughing uncontrollably.

My kids stared at me in shock and my husband tried to quiet me down, concerned about the other diners, but it took a long time for me to settle back into a Buckhead-like decorum.   It was fun to throw my playground swagger around….I still got it!

© 2009 – 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

I heard this song the other day and it brought back memories.  I honestly don’t remember any other songs by Mass Production, but “Firecracker” was the jam!   I still know all the words, as I am gifted like that, but this particular song is burned in my memory for a reason.

I was in 7th grade when I decided to try out for the pom-pom squad; this was a big deal because most of the girls on the squad were 8th graders.  Pom-pom and cheerleading wasn’t really even my thing, but you know, this was 7th grade and I wanted to be a part of something and be popular in Jr. High.   Fortunately, I had 8th grade neighborhood friends who let me be a part of their try-out team.  They were a cool bunch, hip on all the latest music and dance moves; they chose “Firecracker” as our performance song.   For weeks we rehearsed our routine after school until it was flawless.  Finally the day came for try-outs….and I woke up terribly sick.  Not a fake I-don’t-want-to-go-to-school Ferris Buller kind of sick, but an Oh-God-no-this-can’t-be-happening-to-me kind of sick.  I had to stay home from school and missed the pom-pom try-outs.  But do you want to know what made it really bad?  The “ain’t that a blip” about the whole thing?  EVERYONE ON MY TEAM WHO TRIED OUT MADE THE POM-POM SQUAD.

And that’s why I will never forget “Firecracker.”  But despite my tragic adolescence recollection, it’s still a jam.  Take a listen ♬:

© 2009, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

During our vacation to Disney World, I was so stoked to see Monchhichis in our favorite Epcot Japanese store!  Both my husband and I started singing the commercial:

My daughter instantly fell in love and had to have one.  Lucky for her that Daddy is indulgent because I wouldn’t have paid $26 for a Monchhichi myself.   When did nostalgia cost so much?  

It is really cute though.

© 2009, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.