Wish I could find the picture

10 07 2008

During a conversation with M yesterday, I remembered when I met Papa Smurf.  I was maybe 5 or 6, and my parents took me to the Plaza mall in New Orleans East because the Smurfs were gonna be there.  Yayyy!  I was so freakin’ excited.

Imagine my shock when I got there.  I’m here to tell you that a full-grown man in a Smurf costume is terrifying.  All I could think was “That is WAY bigger than two apples tall!”  And then I had a mini-freak out thinking that Gargamel had infiltrated the Smurfs somehow and managed to look like their leader and was in New Orleans to kidnap me and make me help him kill all the Smurfs.

Which explains why there is a picture of me standing in front of a 5’7″ Smurf with tears streaming down my red face in agony.

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5 responses

11 07 2008
Mom

to revive your memory…you were also wondering why Papa Smurf was SOOO BLUUUE???

cos we had a black & white TV wherein he was a medium gray

BTW, I guess blogging is way cheaper than therapy…I wasn’t aware of the Gargamel theory, assassination plot, etc.

WHEW!!

11 07 2008
Nola

Bwahahahaha! Hysterical! Did you skate at the ice rink and then go to Farrell’s??

11 07 2008
Sharon

I did not skate at the ice rink because I never learned to skate (ice or roller). God, that looks so sad typed out.
I don’t remember going to Farrell’s, but I can guarantee we ate at Morrison’s Cafeteria. We ate there a lot, since Dad at one point was doing construction at the Plaza. For years afterward, we used to go and look at the lines drawn in the grout where he had run out of tile and had to fake it.

8 08 2008
Brian

There are a bunch of Full grown me in Smurf Costumes here:

http://fancy-dress-ideas.blogspot.com/2008/07/smurf-costume-in-brussels.html

And from the original Smurfs on Holiday Website:

http://www.joke.co.uk/publish.asp?what=smurfholiday&page=1

26 08 2008
Thank you, Mr. Scanner « The Functional Weirdo

[…] some old pictures that my parents found and yay!  I was so cute.  First, we have the fateful Smurf meeting . . […]

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