My parents' hobby is restoring big old houses. They do most of the work themselves, and they are good at it. But, 3 story homes are kind of a lot for 2 people, so they accumulate and store. Not like pack rats, per se, but they aren't so good at purging. Recently, my mom started the process, and stumbled upon a box of letters and postcards and stuff from me and my sister to her and my dad.
The letters I wrote while I was in college were pretty un-interesting to me, but the ones from Saint Louis were pretty good. Most of it, I had similarly captured in journal form, but still fun to read, a little. Weird to have such a detailed glimpse back at one's self from decades ago.
What really nabbed me were some of the personalizations on the greeting cards I gave them as a little boy and teenager:
"You don't look a day over 39! Happy 38th birthday, Mom."
"Happy late birthday/On-time Father's Day" (my dad's birthday is in February, Father's Day in June)
"Happy Mother's Day. Your present will be late, but you will still get one."
"Don't worry about getting old and all your wrinkles. Happy Birthday"
So, I haven't changed terribly much, forgetting birthdays and presents. Oops.
Among the items was this fake menu I had to make in Junior High French class. I recall the teacher being a bit annoyed at deliberate details such as charging 20 Francs for a cup of coffee against 22 Francs for an entire meal.
I laughed when I re-read this—and it's still making me laugh—was my pun, "Oo-la-lard." Lard not only means lard in French, but also bacon. Anyway, a bit more of vintage Tim Fish for ya.