My Old Rival

When I was a kid, my mom used to go grocery shopping with her friend Gail.  Those of us who were young enough not to be in school would go with them.  Having shopped with my own kids, I can only assume the tag team approach was so that if one mom wanted to leave her screaming, begging kids in the juice aisle due to their misbehavior, the other mom would be there to either a) back them up or b)talk them out of it.  Pure speculation.

 

Sometimes we would do other fun stuff with them like strawberry picking, or then there was the time we went to their house and I was too nervous to ask to go to the bathroom, so I peed my pants and didn't get out of the van, claiming I didn't want to play.  I liked going strawberry picking better.

 

I have a lot of good memories of riding around with the Parkers.  For some reason, anytime we were in our big blue van on an outing, we would invariably look out the window and yell that Mr. Peanut was chasing us, monocle, top hat, cane, and all.  In my crazy imagination, I would literally see him running alongside the road.  We would holler to our moms that they needed to step on it, because he was gaining on us.  My imagination was so good, in fact, that I kind of freaked myself out.  Imagine that.

 

Imagine my shock to see this little number in the magazine I was reading the other day.

If you can't read it, it says "Remember:  Life is a marathon, not a sprint.  And that I always win.  But second is still up for grabs.

 

...

 

This can only mean one thing, he's calling us out.  I also notice he has lost the cane.  Was it all a rouse to seem weak? (a la Johanna Mason for you Hunger Games fans out there)

 

I tried to look up this ad online and found THIS:

 

Jeanette, Aaron, Jared, and Audrey.

The time has come.

 

Also, how freaky was Mr. Peanut in his earliest days?

Was he a man, or a woman?  Or do walking/talking peanuts have gender?  We may never know.