Somewhere in my Grammy’s closet there’s a home video of me when I was about six years old. I was dressed in a bright red adult-sized nightgown (who did this belong to, anyway? Mom? I need answers.), an over-sized pink hat, high heels and a long strand of pearls. This was typical attire at Grammy’s house. I was modeling on the ‘catwalk’ (the sidewalk in the front yard), struttin’ my stuff with no shame.
After a few minutes of recording these shenanigans Grammy asks, “And what’s your name, young lady?” Speaking with a heavy lisp and a lot of sass, I reply, “Miss Priss.”
I was a little ridiculous.
Until I find that video to show you all, here’s a little dose of vintage Morgan in all her chubby glory.
I’m not exactly sure how prissy it is to jump around in the mud with no pants on like a disheveled little hobo, but do you see that Jesus shirt? That little girl knew what was up.