We spent the afternoon at Henry’s sister Kelly’s house yesterday. It was a nice time, for sure, but when Kelly pulled out some old photo albums, it was ON. Typically, I can go hogwild making fun of a gawky teen Henry wearing bitchin’ shades, high-waisted pants, and steepling his fingers. (Seriously, he steeples his fingers more than sinister cartoon crime lords.)
But then Kelly slipped me a strip of photobooth pics taken at Kennywood in 1974.
(For those of you who are bad at math, that is FIVE YEARS before I was born. To spell that out: HENRY IS WAY OLDER THAN ME.)
And aside from the idiotic gaping maw pose he’s got going in the last photo (he claims this was back when an actual person was in there taking the pictures and telling you how to pose), there wasn’t much I could say other than “OMG aw” and “SWOON.”
I also want to add that I’m thankful he doesn’t still have the pervy beer-drinkin’ molester look he had going on in his twenties.