Laziness has forced me to repost this Flashback Friday entry of six years ago. If you have never seen it, then pretend it is brand new, relatively speaking. If you have seen it before, then revel in the knowledge that repetition is often like a first fresh cup of coffee in the morning can be the best part of the day.
I include this picture of the Wombie and I working on our snowball making skills. This picture reveals what has been obvious to many through the years. Mark will shamelessly mug for any available camera, being totally naive and trustworthy, while I prepare to bang his noggin with a big fat iced up snowball that will, I'm sure, have him running to his mommy in just a few seconds. One must always recognize the possibility for kindness/generosity/revenge/total war.
In a pre-Christmas staged and posed picture-fest we three Kings are doing our best to get this over with so we can change clothes and resume normal operations. Before we go, two things. One, that interesting package to my right and by the fireplace looks suspiciously like my car dashboard toy that I had. I went through two of them, actually. One was a yellow dash that was smaller and without much coolness factor, much like a Ford. The second one was a snazzier item, red, with turning knobs, a real working windshield wipers, and a horn, much like an Imperial. Pictures of the toy are below I found on the internet.
The other thing I remember is that while Marj and Herb were away one time, I got into Marj's camera and, fascinated by how it worked, opened the film door and ruined all of the pictures for that year's Christmas cards. In shock at how mad Marj was, and being brutally interrogated through sleep and tears, I can recall what a big deal that was. I always suspected Mark was equally at fault but he wasn't part of the waterboarding I was undergoing. I simply think he got even for all the times I set him up.
And finally, this is brother Phil perusing a book he got for Christmas. In full cowboy regalia, he roamed the home proudly until his new brothers arrived. Then it was two against one. Ha ha ha. Speaking of interrogations and brother Phil, there was an unfortunate incident at college when Mark and I were freshman and Phil was a senior. How Herb could afford this is another story, of course. Anyway, somehow I ended up with his keys and I got drunked up. When he finally found me passed out in my dorm room he wanted to know where his keys were. There was an old TV sitcom called Room 222. He kept asking where his keys were and I said Room 222. He thought I was joking, and he threw me into the shower to sober me up. I kept insisting it was Room 222 and he kept thinking I was being a smart ass. Anyway, they were in Room 222 in the dorm. Good times, good times.