So I’m chatting with my girlfriends, who dare I say it (yes, I do dare) are some of the most brilliant funniest, snarkiest and most awesomest (it is too a word!) hookers I’ve ever met. (I know, I know…feminism back 100 years but that’s what we call each other and if you want to be a part of our vicious gang- and you do, it’s fun- then jump on board! )
And of course the conversation turns to Little House on The Prairie, it was totally applicable to the previous topic at hand.*saarcasm* Which of course had nothing to do with television or anything of the like, we’re big on tangents, the lot of us.
I learned a great deal from this conversation. Many of my girlfriends had crazy Pa Ingalls crushes, one or two dug Almonzo and all of us agreed that Albert was creepy.
Most everybody wanted to be Laura (although one was was so devoted in her Pa Ingalls love she wanted to be Caroline!). Not me. None of that climbing into the loft in the cold Little House for this gal. I wanted to be Nellie. I’m pretty sure that if I spent as much time on my multiplication tables in the 4th grade as I did trying to tunnel curl my hair and fashioning a huge bow out of…something and trying to convince my mom to let me wear my slip over my sunday dress to school (what? it totally looked like a pinafore.) I would have gotten a scholarship to college. I totally blame multiplication and Nellie for my lack of scholarship opportunities.
Laura had chores, she only had one pair of shoes! I mean, yeah, she was the lead and was clearly adorable but no matter how much she wanted to wear blue she had to wear red, because red was for brunettes and blue is for blonds. Duh. She was seriously deprived.
I really didn’t care what a total ass Nellie was. My little mind only saw this:
Laura worked hard and had braids. Nellie flounced home from school whilst wearing the fanciest dress with her hair all curled and bowed, stomped into the store grabbing gobs of candy and headed up to her room with the wrought iron bed and played with her fancy dolls.
Obviously Nellie was more fashion forward (or backward) than me. And then? She got all injured and was in a wheel chair and then remember she was FAKING??? Gossip Girl had nothing on Nellie Olsen.
It’s amazing how all of us from all over the country had this same molding experience from this show. The morals and lessons of the show were not lost on me and I did want to behave more like Laura…just dress more like Nellie, that’s not so wrong is it? (I should say I didn’t want to be mean like Nellie, just rich and full of candy!)
What lessons will Max learn? If I have a daughter will she grow up wanting to be on the Bachelor? Will Max think the whole world exists in CGI?
I think the days of everyone stopping what they are doing to watch ONE show are kind of over. There’s just too much out there now. And DVR. And Netflicks. Sigh. Must remember to create my own weekly rituals for my children. They’re not coming ready made these days.