I love Norman Rockwell. I had a troubled childhood, and my grandparents had a stack of old Saturday Evening Post Magazines. I would sneak one or two out behind a big rock, or under the sumac trees, and I'd stare at the paintings of wholesome, idealized Americana. Saturday Evening Post Magazine taught me that outside of my little world, there was a chance for a better life. I began to believe that there was a place where families got along, and smiled at each other. Where the adults were clear eyed and kind. Helpful guides to the next generation. I wanted to be that family. That mom, and marry that dad, when I grew up.
I was looking through web results for Norman Rockwell, and found this especially funny one. Poor little boy has to dress up all proper and watch his baby sister, while the other kids run off to play at the park. The other boys make sure and point out how much better their day will be. Another insult is that his derby hat is attached by a cord to his lapel, so he doesn't lose it. And he has to carry a baby bottle in his pocket.
Aw man. It's hilarious.
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