Walking Down Memory Lane. Utica, New York. Poor Casey.

Not only do I love this commercial (the music makes me pretend I'm an opera singer on Mt. Pleasant), but I absolute adore this kid's mischievous evil faces as he gives haircuts to the stuffed animals. I can related to his sadistic, criminal intentions, reflecting fondly on the time I gave my little sister a haircut so I could have a little brother. I remember vividly the safety scissors I used in Clarks Mills and vaguely that my parents were upset.

I believe their are photos of this haircut with Santa at the North Pole, too.

That kids face. Too much.

But this commercial kills me. The mother in her heels seems excited to swiffer up the threads of fur that fell to the floor. Sorry, no one enjoys this. They especially don't love to clean in dress closes. Crap, I hate cleaning even when I'm pretending to be Tom Cruise in Risky Business sliding across my hardwood floors while listening to old time rock and roll. Nonsense. I call, "foul."

That kids face, though. It's brilliant. I find myself making similar faces thinking of his mischief and spasmodic glee in his deeds. It is simply hilarious...

...although I don't think my little sister would laugh as much as I am.