The Pickle Song

The summer I turned five my family went to Estes Park, Colorado for vacation. All six of us (my youngest brother Jonny wasn't born yet, and Ben was a baby so he stayed at home with my grandparents) packed into our station wagon for the cross-country trip. During that drive, I made up a song that I enjoyed the sound of so much that I sang it the entire way there. The only lyric was simple yet satisfying: "Pickles, pickles, I like pickles."

My brothers yelled at me to stop singing, they begged my mom to make me stop singing, but I just had to sing! I didn't like pickles when I was little, still don't like them, but that song was just so hypnotically catchy!

That vacation was great. My parents bought us all down coats. My brothers' coats were brown, mine was green.

We all got these little furry animal hides (rabbit?), and I got this Madame Alexander Little Huggums doll that I picked out myself and promptly named Timmy. Timmy and I were tight for a long time; I slept with him until sophomore year in college. It's creepy to have a doll on your bed as an adult, so now he lives on a shelf in my closet.


He's old and threadbare now, but this is what he would have looked like back in 1978:


I might buy a new Timmy on ebay as a Christmas present to myself, not because I would ever want to replace Timmy himself, but because he deserves a new outfit. As a Christmas present to my parents and my older brothers, I'd like to book some studio time so I can officially record my number one hit, Pickles, Pickles, I Like Pickles.