Lynn's Comments: When I was about three years old, my aunt had given me a pair of very frilly under pants. The entire backside was ruffled, and I was thrilled with them. So much so that I went around the neighbourhood lifting my skirt to show them off. I didn't understand why my dad was so upset or why he made me come home and put on a pair of overalls.
Lynn's Comments: As we protested and blocked a city street, we wondered if we'd get our photos in the paper and be interviewed. Meanwhile, my parents, sitting at home, thought I was hanging out with friends after school. They had no idea what I was really doing.
Lynn's Comments: Our enraged and noisy parade made it to the BC Hydro building where we demanded to see the Minister of Transportation. We were told that he was not in the building and that we should make our concerns known in writing. We were too excited and energized to be reasoned with. This was exciting!
Lynn's Comments: I was given a placard, which read, "Boycott BC Hydro"” This was the company that governed the Vancouver transit lines at the time. I had read nothing about the reasons behind the bus fare hike and had no idea what "boycott" meant.
Lynn's Comments: This story is an embarrassing piece of personal history. I was in junior high school when they decided to raise the bus fares. One of the students was a real activist and she organized a rally to protest.
Lynn's Comments: A friend who used a wheelchair surprised me when she told me all of the things she had accomplished that summer; I hadn't done half of the things she had done! She told me that one of her favourite songs was: "Anything you can do, I can do better."
Lynn's Comments: When my son was in high school, he had left a pair of shoes in the front hall—again. As I bent down to pick them up, I noticed how big they were. I remembered how tiny his shoes had been just a short while ago. I realized he and his feet were now the size of an adult and it wouldn't be long before I would be wishing his shoes were still in the hallway.
Lynn's Comments: I remember being about three years old and riding my tricycle down 5th Street in North Vancouver. The wheels squeaked so loudly that one of our neighbours came out and oiled them for me. Funny the things you remember!
Lynn's Comments: This was a real dilemma for me. My daughter was around 13 when her answer to almost everything was, "I dunno." (The 3 meanings, for which I decided there were, ended up in this strip.) Once I figured out which "I dunno" was the one she meant, we were good to go. She now has a 10-year-old daughter and I’m patiently waiting for her to start saying, "I dunno!"