I had an incredible childhood. When I think back about being a kid, my mind gets inundated with pictures and images of all the awesome things we did and the incredible times we had. Family camping trips where we would wander and explore the campground for hours. Making cut out sugar cookies every holiday with my loving and ever patient mom. Vacations to Worlds of Fun where I would tease my dad about his endless trips to the bathroom, joking it was his favorite ride at the park. Neighborhood wide water fights usually started by said father who is known to have an ornery streak, leaving no wonder where I get mine from 😉 . Marathon Monopoly games and Clue nights. I still have nightmares about what Colonel Mustard did in the Conservatory with the candlestick. My brother, two of his friends, and I giving a full on KISS tribute band performance for the neighborhood kids complete with full make-up and fake wood guitars. I was Gene Simmons.
But some of my favorite memories circle around Strawberry Shortcake. Strawberry Shortcake of the 80s was awesome. She had a killer puffy pink hat, a smile that could melt butter, and she smelled like sunshine. No really, sunshine…and joy…. and happiness.
Strawberry Shortcake reminds me of love.
Prior to her arrival into my world, I’m sure I had a very lovely bedspread and nicely decorated room, but I don’t remember it. What I do remember is I was allowed to have a Strawberry Shortcake bedspread set and was over the moon about it. My mom, being the incredible and crafty person that she is, didn’t settle for just buying a bedspread and sheet set, oh no. She bought extra sheet sets and created a Strawberry paradise in my room. Drapes, doilies, lampshade covers. Heck, she even recovered the top of a stool I had in there. But it didn’t stop there.
I had a Strawberry Shortcake doll house (of course I did, duh!) and she used some of the extra material to make miniature bedspreads, drapes, rugs, and lampshade covers, so the house could match my room.
I literally lived in a Strawberry Shortcake heaven as a child and I loved every minute of it. And mom my even more for making it all for me.
So imagine my joy when I was wondering through Wal-Mart yesterday and stumbled upon this little slice of heaven.
I think I stood there for five minutes, lost in my own brain as I was flooded with a sensory overload of memories.
Whoever said you can’t buy happiness never experienced the sheer, pure bliss of Strawberry Shortcake and is dead wrong.
I bought happiness yesterday and it’s sitting on my kitchen counter today.