I forgot it was Vintage Photo Friday. It is also exactly one month until my birthday. So, I'm going to treat you all to a weekly "baby Laurie Ann" pictorial leading up to my 45th birthday, which will be my social age* until I'm, like, 80 or something and it's cool to reveal my real age again. I'll take you from earliest photos and end with a photo of me on my birthday, which is a Monday so that picture's probably going to be horrendous.
This is me on the day of my baptism being snuggled by my favorite priest, Father John Barrett. No dirty priest jokes, please. He was wonderful and truly cared about our family. One day in high school when I was supposed to be making confession, he talked to me for 20 minutes about how I was coping with my parents divorce. At the end he said, "I know you probably haven't sinned much. Just say a few Hail Marys and be done," then did the absolve me of my sins thing and that was it. Of course, my classmates thought I was confessing a murder or something because, seriously, no one does confession for that long.
That's me and Father Barrett again, with my Godparents Johnny Cohill and Chrissie McIntyre. Doesn't she look perfectly delighted to be my Godmother? They were not a couple, which I thought was odd, but after five kids my parents were hard-pressed to find Catholic friends who hadn't already stepped up.
Johnny was a confirmed bachelor and he always gave me a 5 lb box of chocolates for my birthday and Christmas "to share with your brothers and sister." Chrissie gave me toys and puzzles. She was fairly young so probably didn't have a lot of money. She also had a damn handsome little brother named Tony who was far too old for me but, I repeat, damn handsome.
Next week, the toddler years.
*Last night, a woman told me a story about her grandmother telling her doctor she was born in 1919. When her granddaughter countered and said, "but you were born in 1905," she replied, "Oh, I gave him my social age."
This is me on the day of my baptism being snuggled by my favorite priest, Father John Barrett. No dirty priest jokes, please. He was wonderful and truly cared about our family. One day in high school when I was supposed to be making confession, he talked to me for 20 minutes about how I was coping with my parents divorce. At the end he said, "I know you probably haven't sinned much. Just say a few Hail Marys and be done," then did the absolve me of my sins thing and that was it. Of course, my classmates thought I was confessing a murder or something because, seriously, no one does confession for that long.
That's me and Father Barrett again, with my Godparents Johnny Cohill and Chrissie McIntyre. Doesn't she look perfectly delighted to be my Godmother? They were not a couple, which I thought was odd, but after five kids my parents were hard-pressed to find Catholic friends who hadn't already stepped up.
Johnny was a confirmed bachelor and he always gave me a 5 lb box of chocolates for my birthday and Christmas "to share with your brothers and sister." Chrissie gave me toys and puzzles. She was fairly young so probably didn't have a lot of money. She also had a damn handsome little brother named Tony who was far too old for me but, I repeat, damn handsome.Next week, the toddler years.
*Last night, a woman told me a story about her grandmother telling her doctor she was born in 1919. When her granddaughter countered and said, "but you were born in 1905," she replied, "Oh, I gave him my social age."
4 comments:
How friggin cute are your godparents?! Funny how that really meant something back in the day, huh? WMG's "godfather" is a non-practicing Jew. Father Henry (my personal Fr. Barrett) would turn in his grave.
Also, "social age"? Why 45? Why not be more accurate, like, TWELVE?!
What a sweet little pink baby girl! Happy almost birthday!
You were a total cutie.
Is that your brother and his boots on the couch?
MonkeyGurrrrrl: If I thought I could pull off 12, I'd do it. Maybe I could pull of 35, but not for long.
Woolanthropy: Yes, it's one of my brothers. I want to say Roy because I see dark hair. He would have been 3 at the time.
Thanks Ellen.
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