As some of you may or may not know I recently moved back in with the parentals (progression, that's what we like. Ha.). This move meant that I had to clear out the 'junk' room at mama's ready for me to move my things in. Oh joy. Anyway, not all things turned out to be as dull as it sounds, I did come across a few things golden. Enjoy.
Oh yes, go the 90s and the middle part/spiked hair, puffy adidas jackets and ten sizes too big tops hahaha. My older brother and his bf (best friend that is) in yr 7.
Mummy served her mission in England. Suppose it was the first time they saw a Tongan... so they made her a "grass" skirt.. don't think they realised that's traditionally a Hawiian thing haha
A different day judging by mum's change of clothes but they've brought the grass skirt out again, bless them. Can I just point out though how sexy his legs are? mmmmm.
Me at 4/5, don't know which.
hehe love my 80s hair, thanks mum. All us kids minus the youngest.
Evidence that they were young-ish once... who invited the moustached, curly mulleted black fellas.. mum? we're not related to them are we?
Mummy and me.. I hope I look that amazing after just giving birth
Look I don't know who these people are or why we have their wedding pic but how could I not post this one?!
Our house in Tonga.. contrary to popular belief it's not all grass huts and teepees :P
My older brother when he was little.. so darn cute! then puberty hit... haha kidding
Grandmama.. she was always so pretty.. and always so obsessed with pink!
When plastic made me happy :)
Jocey! evidence that she did like to eat... once.. haha
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two." -St. Augustine