Today is Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen’s 26th birthday. I would say Happy Birthday to them, but I can’t muster up the strength to care. Not after everything they put me through during my childhood. You see, I used to love them. I poured my heart and soul and allowance into my obsession. And now, years after I paid for New York Minute and dragged an innocent friend to see it with me in theaters, I’m just starting to work on forgiving them for their betrayal.
Do I sound crazy? Unhinged? Irrational?
You should have seen in my 7th grade when my parents made me turn off a Mary-Kate and Ashley movie marathon on TV to go out to dinner. I wish my temper tantrum only involved tears, but I’m pretty sure it involved some choice statements like, “this is a once in a lifetime opportunity” and “if I don’t see how Our Lips Are Sealed ends, I’ll die. I’LL JUST DIE!”
Spoiler alert: I didn’t die. But I did harbor a grudge against my parents for days. How dare they take away the one thing that means anything to me. How dare they rob me of the opportunity to try to decipher the lack of logic behind It Takes Two.
I don’t know when my obsession with them began. Possibly while watching Full House reruns after school or maybe while watching The Adventures of Mary-Kate and Ashley, their musical mystery series that went straight to videos in the mid ’90s. It doesn’t really matter when it started, because once it began, it really began. I started asking for all their videos and their cassette tapes (yep they had a wonderful cassette tapes with two full sides of music). At the time I thought they were masterpieces. Although now I look back and realize that they’re not. They’re not even that talented and I guess, once they passed in to their elementary years they weren’t even that cute. They just happened to be twins who could repeat lines.
And had no qualms or social anxieties about openly selling their brother.