Rushing out of the pool. Drenched. Wrapping towels around our waists and dropping to our knees before the television god.

One o’clock. All My Children. Learning to be adults. Affairs, pregnancies, lies, even amnesia.

We all wanted to be Susan Lucci. She was proof that we could be petite, brunette and ethnic.
Short, dark, Italian and still be glamourous.

We never missed an episode that summer. But nothing changed from day to day. Much like our childhood lives.

We were led to believe life moved slowly and dramatically. We discovered later that life moved quickly and quietly.

Years later, Luke and Laura stole our hearts. We skipped college classes to attend their wedding.

We learned that if we were patient, if we looked the other way, if we were willing to rewrite history, our man would be ours.

But back then, not aware, not caring what the future held, we were glued to the tube. Picking our way through red pistachios with salt puckered fingers.

One thought on “Red Pistachios and All My Children by tinadebellegarde

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