Samantha Bee (of The Daily Show) wrote a hilarious article called “A Long Summer for ‘Weary Tiger’ Mothers.” My favorite part:
“I am a child of the 1970s. What that means, in short, is that my childhood summer vacations were spent languishing in front of the TV watching Phil Donahue and eating Boo Berry until my skin turned purple. Nobody cared if I read. Nobody cared if I wore sunscreen, or pants. I was like a house cat.”
I emailed it to Tasha who replied, “That’s exactly what I did. Except I was drinking apple juice out of a gallon jug to wash down my pressed turkey-product sandwiches on white bread and watching Watergate hearings (on every channel) until the damn Brady Bunch/Gilligan’s Island/Partridge Family re-runs would kick in (please, already with Haldeman, Ehrlichman, Mitchell, and Dean…..and I really did not have to look that up….it was a mantra).”
I remember eating white bread and sugar sandwiches. Or on more nutritional days, white bread with Miracle Whip. I watched re-runs of Facts of Life, Diff’rent Strokes and Three’s Company. Sang Annie songs into my microphone. Listened to “Beat It” over and over, holding sweaty quarters in my hand while waiting for the ice cream truck to appear.
But maybe my friend, Shannon, has the best idea for how to embrace her Weary 70s Tiger Mom-self:
“I can honestly report to you that about 2 hours before reading this article, I was lying completely horizontal, doing nothing more than staring upwards and calculating ‘hmmm… I saw Star Wars in ’77, so I was 5 and a half …. the twins turn 5 in September ….. yes, I think this is a good plan.’ I think I’m going to start a 70s summer camp. We’ll wander through the woods with bb guns, drink kool aid, and swim at night.”
Any memories you are similarly proud to share?