The kids and I are recovering from a busy weekend that included Cary's and my high school reunion (in three acts with a relatively predictable cast of characters), and a birthday party at Lasertron for Henry.
I was slightly horrified that I'd be sending him off to a party where he'd pretend to shoot other eight year olds, but I gave in because I hate for him to miss a social opportunity. I think that means that I was a victim of peer pressure.
The reunion was pretty fun and very tiring. It unlocked the dusty spaces of my brain and dated memories came flooding out. Everything from the origin of inside jokes to all of the things we did, that now as parents, seem like they were a bad idea. (See previous paragraph for an explanation as to how we got to do them in the first place). I was "in charge of the music" which just meant creating a play list for the evening, heavy on 80s one-hit wonders and 70s classic rock meant to please my classmates more than myself.
Looking at old pictures revealed that wow, all the girls had BIG hair. If there had been a prize for the puffiest bangs, we were all in the running. I think Kirsta wins, not because her hair was the biggest, but because she told us how they had to prop her head against the wall when she got a spiral perm because the rods were too heavy!