There is sooo much going on in this photo. Let's start with the background and work our way to the creeps with the whipped cream pants, OK? That was my kitchen. I loved that kitchen until some lame teacher chick at my preschool told me that since I was a girl, I should go play in the kitchen with the other girls instead of playing Legos on the floor. After that, I hated the kitchen and I still do. I mean, I can cook some stuff but I'd much rather have food delivered to me while I watch Buffy. But that toy kitchen was pretty darn cute. Also, in the laundry basket next to it is a huge oatmeal container. We used to reuse those things as toy boxes. Can you imagine? So retro! That one was probably filled with blocks or something but later it would be filled with Smurfs and My Little Ponies.
My hair pretty much looks exactly like that now only longer and I don't really put sassy barrettes in it as often as I should. My shirt is (I suspect) some sort of polyester kid leisure suit my Meemaw made me. Check out the collar and the cool paisley accents! I probably hit the kid disco after this and busted some sweet moves to Disco Frog.
OK, the clowns. I think this moment in time might be responsible for a lifetime obsession with Stephen King (I've read IT waaaay too many times) and possibly even my affection for scary stuff in general. I mean, they're not even just clowns, they're twin clowns! All they need is a hallway of blood. They might have said, "Come play with us, Kendra," I don't really remember. But, check out those "I'm gonna chain you up and torture you in a woodshed" smiles! And, look at the eyes. The eyes are red! RED! RED CREEPY TWIN CLOWN EYES! COME ON!
Also, when it was time to cut the cake, my mom and Meemaw had to behead the scary red-eyed clown twins first. So, basically, their creepy ruffle-framed noggins just stared at me from the kitchen table with their red eyes while I was trying to get my cake on. They had pink frosting-covered plastic stabby things for bodies. It was just too much. And somehow exactly right, you know?
Because what's a childhood without a terrifying birthday cake or two? What's a childhood without twin creeps?
*photo by my mom, scanned by my mom, emailed to me so I'd have nightmares by my mom.