Hola, kiddos. It’s been a minute, I know. I left
Cabinet Department That
Shall Not Be Named the State Department and took a shiny new job at
Cabinet Agency That Shall Not Be Named. And my parents decided to move for the
first time in 23 years. So blah-blah-blah life got in the way of blogging,
excuses excuses whatever.
Serious talk: Do you remember My Buddy and/or Kid Sister? This could possibly be 2015’s second bombshell regarding parallel universes?
Why “second,” you ask? Because of the Berenst*in Bears situation. (I like that the asterisk makes it look like an expletive. This whole thing is just that serious.)
If you haven’t heard, there’s a universe of people (this one) who grew up reading books about the Berenstein Bears. I’m one. You’re one (HELLO, ethno-cultural assumptions!). They are like the Boxcar Children, or The Monster at the End of This Book. Touchstones of our childhood. Right? Right!
Then, sometime this year, we all realized that the actual name is spelled…
B – E – R – E – N – S – T – A – I – N
…and always has been. ALLEGEDLY. Even though the name is pronounced Bear-in-STEEN and not Bear-in-STAIN.
Then, to add literal insult to figurative injury, TheBoy recently reminded me of My Buddy, which reminded me of Kid Sister, and I’ve basically had this tune running through my head for a week and a half:
You haven’t lived until you’ve exited a Metro station with the words “MY BUDDY AND ME!” That day, the guy lying on the ground with a sign and a cup but no shoes was NOT the one getting the craziest looks.
Wikipedia tells me that My Buddy and Kid Sister were marketed for like half a second several decades ago. I never had one. No one I know ever had one. But everyone seems to remember this commercial and that freaking song.
I can only conclude that in some parallel universe, we all had My Buddy and/or Kid Sister, and wherever they went, we went.
("...our Buddies and us!")