pop shoppe

My husband recently went away on business; for a week in Toronto. I love Toronto. I grew up in Vancouver and when I visit there now I feel like a stranger in my own home, but Toronto feels like what my home should have grown up to be. Well organized, multi-cultural, pretty, fun, great food and good people.

Anyway, Shane went away and he brought all the kids back yo-yo's. Only my oldest daughter Tristan could figure it out. She's the type of person that can do anything the first time she tries. She's really good at most everything and she's beautiful too. It's going to be hard to live up to her. Toby my five year old was very frustrated by the whole thing - poor guy. He ended up swinging his around as hard as he could and using it as some kind of ancient judo weapon. Hi-ya.

So all the yo-yo talk got my husband and I remembering the yo-yo's of our youth. There was one kind of yo-yo that lit up or something and it wasn't called a yo-yo and EVERYBODY had one in the pocket of their Rainbow Painter Pants or perhaps their French Cut Jeans. What were those called? It's driving me crazy.
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