Before I was even born, I was destined to love The Muppets.
A true story from my more-or-less idyllic childhood: Until I was 9, I lived in an apartment on a dead end street that ended at the entrance to a park. Through the park, over a bridge and down the block, my grandparents owned a giant house. It was a 10 minute walk, about half a mile. And whenever my parents had to work, I’d hang out there.
Like I said, it was a big, sprawling house with five bedrooms, three bathrooms, two living rooms, an office and a kitchen on the main floor. None of it was off limits. I’d run through the house, acting out scenes from my favorite movies or playing board games with my teenaged aunt and uncles. I remember lots of fake flowers, lots of cups of tea and lots and lots of Miss Piggy.
She was (and still is) my grandma’s favorite. She was on the clock on my grandmother’s desk. She was tchotchkes all around the living room. And she loomed (extremely fat and round) as a giant, three-foot high statue in my grandparents’ bedroom. Which explains why I saw The Fantastic Miss Piggy Show several times as a kid, even though it came out a full year before I was actually born.
My favorite scene? Watch for yourself:
Imagine what a great workout it would be to dig into The Kitchen Sink!
This whole scenario is so tied up in my childhood, it’s ridiculous. A parody of Jane Fonda’s workout videos, Piggy’s routine felt intimately familiar to me. Because when I wasn’t running around my grandparents’ house like a hoodlum, I was watching General Hospital or doing Jane Fonda’s original workout with my mom in front of the TV in my parents’ bedroom. (Like I said, idyllic.)
And it never once seemed weird to me that Miss Piggy was wearing full-on elbow length satin gloves while at the gym. Why would it?
Do you remember Miss Piggy’s work out? What’s your favorite Miss Piggy moment? Let us know in the comments below!