Cowabunga dudes fuel fond memories

The trailer for the new Ninja Turtle movie brought back memories. Our family sure got a lot of mileage with the original ones.

The trailer for the new Ninja Turtle movie coming out this summer brought back memories.

Our family sure got a lot of mileage with the original ones.

I first heard about the ninja turtles in a bad light.

One of my sisters-in-law was complaining that her nieces and nephews were allowed to watch the cartoon.

“They are really dark, violent and evil,” she insisted.

So for the first few years our daughters were protected from the green guys.

That lapsed when we arrived in Nelson and one of the movies was new in the theatre.

My dad asked if my daughters would like to go and I said: “aren’t they too violent?”

Dad frowned.

“Good triumphing over evil is always a good thing isn’t it?” he challenged.

So off they went and that was it. Turtles began to influence us.

Pizza birthday cakes with turtle action figures became popular. Often rags were hastily transformed into masks.

One winter a snowman made by my husband featured a life-sized Ninja Turtle, Michael Angelo style, died green with food colouring.

And often the girls argued about who was April O’Neil when the cousins were over playing.

Later we would acquire all three VHS movies and I’ll admit to plunking small boys in front of the video while I napped, only to awaken when the credits were rolling.

I think these are memories many families share, but there’s one thing I am certain is unique.

When living in Vanderhoof  a neighbour showed me how to cut apples for sauce in a way that was different than what I was used to.

She cut them in half, and carved out the core in a V-shape. It wasted less, she insisted.

I followed her lead and continued to cut apples for snacks that way from there on in.

The first time I did it for our fifth child Nick, he smiled and exclaimed, “Cool. A turtle comm.”

He was referring to the hand-held walkie talkies used by the Ninja Turtles.

I still smile about the time I returned from an outing to discover several quartered apples on the counter turning brown.

When I asked what they were my husband stammered, “What the heck is a turtle comm?”

Monica Lamb-Yorski is a reporter at the Williams Lake Tribune who enjoys writing a column now and then.