reminiscent, childhood, memories
At a party recently, concentrating on a fudge brownie, I was asked who the youngest sister in the Brady Bunch was. I know every episode of the silly sitcom: I can tell you how Bobby got Joe Namath to play football with him; I can tell you where Jan's white mouse ended up after it chewed its way out of the hamper; I can tell you what Alice does at night after taking off her maid's apron, and when Carol got a shag haircut, and why Marcia joined all those clubs at school. So why, that night, did the little girl's name refuse to come out of the Brady Bunch lobe of my brain down into my conscious mind? Her high, confiding voice was there, with her her bleached-blonde pigtails on either side of an upturned nose, with her expression of triumph when the girls beat the boys in a house of cards contest, but no name came to me. For days I suffered, unable to bring it back, until someone else told me. Then I said, "Oh yeah, that's right," knowing utterly that it was.
Inscape: Vol. 8:
2, Article 22.
Available at: https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/inscape/vol8/iss2/22