When I was a little girl, I savored going to the drive in movies with my Dad. There we were, in our Silver Chevy Impala with the bright red interior. I wasn’t allowed to wear my pajamas like the other kids. Nor was I allowed to lie on the roof because it was too dirty for a girl to sit on but I still had my fun in the backseat. My brother and I would pretend it was a fort. Honestly, I don’t think my brother remembers much back then. He was still being potty trained and spent most of the time eating, sleeping or putting odd objects in his mouth.
Back then, we didn’t have VCR’s to play Shrek continuously. What we had were periodic summer specials. I saw Dumbo, Snow White and a list of other Disney films for the first time at the Drive In. My all-time favorite was Robin Hood. To this day, I associate Alan-A-Dale with my father. I used to pretend I was Maid Marian. My dad bought me the record and I played it constantly on his old Lloyd’s.
I still have the vinyl. I keep it as a reminder of my youth and simpler times.
The last time we went to the drive in, I was too old to be carried up to bed but I still tried. My dad picked me up gingerly and carried me to my bed and tucked me in. When he turned the light off he said, “That’s the last time now. You know you’re getting too big. Good night.” I fell asleep smiling knowing that I got away with it, well sort of, and for few more stolen minutes, I was still Daddy’s little girl.
