Prepare yourself. This is gonna be a feast for the eyes.
I took the day off yesterday from my 31 Day Blogging Challenge (eh, we all knew I’d never make it).
But that has given you a full 24 hours to cleanse your system in preparation for this day.
Welcome to ThrowBack Thursday: ’80s Yearbook Edition.
Here’s your first free sample:
For Day 16 of my 31 Days of Fun/Funny/Funtastic Stuff for Kids, I say let’s dust off our old yearbooks. And let’s collectively horrify our children with our mullet hair/gold chains/Jordache jeans of yesteryear. They need to know – nay, SEE – what we went through with their own eyes so they won’t make the same mistakes we did.
And oh yeah, so they can mock us.
Let’s show them what passed for “Best Dressed” in our day.
Make your children look at you in that band uniform and know: This is my heritage. This awesomeness is where I come from.
Let your children enter that world with you…back to Ye Olde 20th Century, where we churned our own margarine and communicated with the outside world by CB radio and wore leg-warmers to survive the harsh prairie winters.
You may need to translate and/or screen some of the 1980s yearbook lingo. (Apparently “Raising Hell” was very much encouraged at my junior high.)
There’s also higher math that may need to be explained. (This is not the way they do things in the Common Core.)
Be sure to introduce your kids to the teachers and staff who shaped the person you would become.
Like our Lunch Room Ladies.
Especially the giant one with the mustache.
Your yearbook is a teaching tool, my friends, for giving the next generation a window into the past.
To see what the ancients wore (mostly puffy sleeves).
To better understand how they communicated with one another (by corded phone and mix tape).
To catch a glimpse of what daily life was like (we were very big on balloon arches).
Sharing our yearbooks with our children is a vital tool for passing along the proud oral tradition of our family histories – as we tell tales of courage and perseverance (like how Bill survived having his sweater set on fire by some girl playing with matches in class). These are the stories they will one day tell their children.
May we all reflect on our yearbooks of days gone by, learn from the past, and guide our children into a better tomorrow.
A tomorrow where there is no more hate.
No more fear.
And (please Lord), no more perms.