Confession

So I totally bust out laughing yesterday reading Beverly's comment on my last post about life at Eisenhower Jr. High. Why, you ask? Because she said her locker was in "K Hall". That comment isn't necessarily funny in and of itself, but anyone who has known me for more than the last dozen or so years, would understand why K Hall, any K Hall in any building that names their hallways with letters will always be my favorite.

Before I was known as Kirsten Berrett, I was known to everyone as, you guessed it, Kirsten Hall. I always wanted to locker in a K Hall. Silly, I know, but it is what it is. Better yet, I've always wanted to secretly steal one of those signs off the school walls at take it home and hang it in my bedroom. But I was short. And scared. And so in six years of going to schools with hallways named after me, I never managed to nick one.

However, AFTER I graduated, my little brother who wasn't so little anymore (I am the oldest, but the shortest of all my sibs by at least 6 inches) did me a big favor.

Yes, I admit it. I own some stolen property. And that's why Beverly's comment had me laughing, because I had completely forgotten about that before yesterday. But, I knew exactly where it was hiding in my closet. So, raise your hand if your opinion of me just fell a few notches. Sorry. Kinda.

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The top picture is a picture of my family from the mid 90's. I had come home from college to attend an award ceremony for my star athlete, co-captain of the swim team, just got a full ride scholarship to go to the University of Utah brother. I think I was at my skinniest in that picture. That was my pre-baby body. I might even have those jeans tucked into the far nether reaches of my closet, still mocking me. I couldn't even tell you the last time I wore or even owned a belt. sigh. Maybe some girl scout cookies will make me feel better.