First Twitter post I saw this morning was about Mickey Mouse’s Birthday. It brought back to me memories. Memories of Chef Borardee’s box of spaghetti dinner, TV trays, watching television and Marlon with his Wild Kingdom. Then after the credits and commercial came Tinkerbelle and the Magic Kingdom.
It was a wonderful life, one of the first meals I learned to make. I coudn’t wait to pop those triangle holes in the top of the mini Parmesan cheese can and fight over getting the right amount on my s’ghetti before it was taken by the rest of the family. Slurping up those long strings of pasta. Yum. It wasn’t until my marriage to my husband, of Italian decent, that I learned to cook my pasta al dente.
But this morning my memories went back to that happy mushy pasta of childhood, all because of a mouse. So, not just sending out a “Happy Birthday Mickey” but a big “THANK YOU” as well. You made my childhood special, one day a week right there in the middle of the ordinary, far from the amusement park glamor. That is a pretty awesome gift to give.
Before I got to publish this, Mickey did it again, in the present day, made me feel magic. I had tweeted like a lot of others birthday wishes to Mr. Mouse, a really classy guy with impeccable manners. Mickey Mouse tweeted back to me. And I am that little kid kneeling on the couch cushion to bring me up to lean over the plate of speghetti on the TV tray in my parents’ den as the musical notes sound and Tink fly across the screen.
You’re welcome Mickey!
We are all lucky.