Growing up, my sister and I had incredibly active imaginations — to the point that we could literally amuse ourselves for hours with a few Barbies, possibly some crayons and coloring books, and a board game or two. But mostly we developed large, elaborate “imaginary games” — we were princesses; we were drifters stuck in the middle of a hot, scary volcanic eruption. The space around my grandmother’s porch was a lava pit, and Kate and I had to leap across it in order to reach safety and save our young lives. Good children of the ’80s that we were, we shared the requisite G.I. Joes with Matthew, a neighborhood friend, when staying with our grandparents in the summer. We always had a lively game of something lined up — be it Uno cards, Monopoly, coloring time, craft time, etc.
And going along on all of these escapades with us? My imaginary friend, of course.
Peter. As in, Brady.
Yes, I was in love with Peter Brady. And not a little — a lot in love with Peter, my first celebrity crush! I was probably five or six, I guess, when Peter and I first met. Grandma would put on re-runs of “The Brady Bunch” in the afternoons, and I don’t think it took much time at all for me to memorize most of the episodes. Though I don’t remember him being particularly mischievous, my dear friend “Peter” went with me everywhere!
Although I had my dear sister and plenty of friends at school and in the neighborhood with whom to play, Peter was still my buddy of choice. Sometimes I wonder what ever became of the cute, floppy-haired boy constantly in Greg’s shadow, and then I remember . . .
He “grew up” to be Christopher Knight, serious and unabashed reality TV “star.” And he’s married to Adrianne Curry! Seriously — Adrianne Curry?! Did anyone ever watch “My Fair Brady” a few years back on VH1? Why do you have to break my heart so, Peter?