Klowns in my Koffee

At the risk of repetition, another blistering day ended with thunder and lightening. The gardens are overgrowing and the children are constantly sticky.

After forcefeeding math, writing, reading, and a trip to the library for a kindergarten prep class, somebody needed a nap. I'm afraid it was me. I've perfected falling like a rock while the children climb over my prone body like seals on an ice flow.

In the evening, we joined our Little League pals to close up the ball field and have one last meal of hotdogs, chips, and whatever liquid comes out of those big yellow canisters mandated for all youth events.

Here's a website that I played with for much of the evening: YearbookYourself http://www.yearbookyourself.com/ It's both addictive and a real hoot! Upload some pictures of yourself or your family members (and not famous people since they seem to be touchy about that in the terms and conditions -- and there's not an option to erase the uploaded original pictures) and bring yourself through time in the Yearbook Universe from 1950 to 2000.

My husband said that he was appalled and 'creeped out' by the results. Still, I think that he may have missed a fashion opportunity by not growing some white guy dreadlocks.

He's a dead ringer for whichever Baldwin brother is in Bio-Dome. (OK, it's Stephen Baldwin in Bio-Dome — I'm embarrassed to admit knowing that.)

Here we are in another faux-to making my family cringe. All rights to the photos and the semi-clever captions are owned by the Jostens people, by the way.

I like the picture of me in the great Gloria Steinem hair so much that I may paste it over my real high school yearbook photo.

It would have been nice to go to the prom with my husband (though I was OK going with a tuba player named Bob whose mother cut his hair to look like the little Dutch boy). This problem has been rectified and not a minute too soon, (The 'husband at the prom' part, not Bob's hair. He may still have it like that for all I know. I can't go into the paint department at Menard's without feeling a little nostalgic for light blue tuxedos.)

Happy revising history!