I was rummaging through my closet recently looking for a lost item. After I fought my way through 50 pairs of shoes and enough clothing to make JC Penney jealous, I found a box of old photographs.

I sat on the floor rummaging through the pictures and realized that I may not be able to get up off the floor. Would this be the end? Would they find me weeks from now on the floor of the closet on my back like a June bug with my feet kicking up in the air?

I often find myself grumbling about how the new generation has lost their minds. I’m sure there are some cool kids out there somewhere but they will never be as cool as we were back in the day with our mullets and ripped jeans. I will never forget the look on my parents faces when they found me ripping the knees out of the new jeans they just bought for me.

Yes, I was certain that even the Fonz could take cool lessons from me. I came across an old picture of me from high school. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt with sunglasses and obviously thought I was something else.

I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw in the picture that my socks didn’t match. I am told that is the style today, so either I was ahead of my time and was a trend setter or I was not nearly as cool as I thought I was.

I sorted through the pictures and came across a picture of an 8-year-old me standing outside in my underwear and curiosity got the better of me and I had to give my mother a call for the scoop.

She told me that when the picture was taken she was on the way to the laundromat and had apparently asked me several times to take off my school clothes so they could be laundered. When I ignored the request and kept playing outside, she proceeded to strip me of my clothing in the driveway and left me wishing I had listened the first time.

I came across a picture of myself and two of my older siblings in our old country house in Lincoln County. This was way back when it used to snow four feet every winter and we were home on a snow day, which I’m sure my mother was just ecstatic about.

She had fixed hot dogs for lunch and went to outside for some reason. Probably to get a minute’s peace. She figured everything would be fine for the 10 minutes she was out. That was her first mistake.

While we sat at the kitchen table eating our lunch, I recall one of my siblings betting me that I couldn’t eat a whole pack of hot dogs in 30 seconds. I intended to prove them wrong.

I shoved the entire pack of hot dogs in my mouth and swallowed in record time that would put today’s professional eaters to shame. I pranced around the kitchen with my hands in the air and was proud of my accomplishment.

Suddenly, things went terribly wrong. While my mouth was happy, my stomach was having none of it and I proceeded to spew the hot dogs back up and across the kitchen as if I was in the Exorcist.

My mother came back in the house and was speechless. So the next time you have hot dogs for supper invite me over. I bet I can pull it off now. Or not.