Remember that song by the Isley Brothers “Wh’'s That Lady?”, really cool, really groovin’, just a serious dance song..? Know which one I mean?

The lyrics continue on to include ‘sex-ay lay-day ... realreal fi-hine lay-day,’ OK, so I think you’re in the groove now, and you hear the guitar riff that is so definitely The Isleys.

Picture, then, if you will, Mama from “Mama’s Family” dancin’ around to that song. You know, dressed in the wig and glasses, the purple flowery dress, thick support hose and corrective shoes, just a-swingin’ those big ol’ padded hips around that set.

Have you got it? Is it a clear mental image for you? You hear the music, see her twistin’ those granny arms around and bendin’ her knees to get her groove on? Hold it now ... hold that picture … OK...

That’s me.

That is me, so me.

Hubs is playing the role of Vinton, and Sunnybuns is playing the role of ... Bubba Higgins. He’s not old enough, of course, but he’s Bubba anyway ... not to be confused with my dear friend Bubba and his lovely wife, Susan. Y’all know who I mean ... (they really ought to be crowned the King and Queen of Effingham County ... seriously).

Anyway, the reason I am Thelma Harper is because one look in the mirror tells me so.

I caught a glimpse of myself as I danced by the bathroom mirror when that song was playing on the radio the other day and I shrieked. It was like the old Mary Worth curse. If you don’t know what that is, I’m sure Wikipedia can explain it.

I turned every which way in that mirror, and no matter how I looked at it, there stood Mother Harper.

I think I would have preferred to catch myself lookin’ like Iola, but that was not the case.

It was even more firmly brought home to me the other day when I went into town with my neighbor and her kids.

Now, my neighbor is young enough to be my daughter. Easily. She has two kids of her own and one that she is adopting.

She looks like one of those chicks off “The Girls Next Door,” you know, Hugh Hefner’s bevy of beauties ... all pretty ... dumber than dirt, but pretty.

She stands about 5-foot-7 in her four-inch platforms, is about a size 2 (except in the bra...), and has gorgeous blonde hair about three feet long. Oh, and big blue eyes. Yes. You can imagine how I felt like Thelma Harper standing next to The Bunnie. Her name is Megan, and she is a doll. Very much so.

We were standing outside an ice cream parlor having a chat as the young’uns were livin’ it up, and I knew that every pair of wandering male eyes was on that girl. I said to her, "You might as well eat up every single ounce of this attention you’re getting..." and she did.

She was nice enough to comment, “Oh, they aren’t looking at me! They’re looking at you!”

“Yes, because you’re standing next to the Grandma Cabbage Patch doll!”

I have to admit, I certainly felt like one right then!

She laughed out loud, and commented on how funny she thinks I am ... I sorta smirked and said, “Well, honey, the truth hurts, even when it is funny!”

Even with the wide age difference between us, its clear to me that I never looked liked she does. Never. Ever. Not even in my wildest dreams. Hugh Hefner would never hire me to be one of his bunniekins. I would have been hired to clean their cages, and that’s about it.

Even the older sets of eyes were just oogling her as we walked toward my vehicle. I said, “See? If I was you, I’d have already fallen off one of those platforms, my padded inserts would have flown across the sidewalk, and my teeth would have fallen out. Never mind that my long blonde wig would have been twisted sideways ... I could never pull off a look like the one you’ve got!” She gave me a friendly push on the shoulder and said in Valley Girl fashion, “Shut! Up!”

As always, though, I’ll get the last laugh.

I know ol’ Bunnikins is gonna end up lookin’ like Thelma’s daughter in-law, Naomi. And honey, I wouldn’t trade that for all the support hose in the world.