Yahtzee Is Vicious and Other True Cliches

At our house we take our board games very seriously. Actually, my sister's house where we were staying for the weekend. (again...I love making her wash the sheets again, although we were there only a few weeks ago. So every couple of weeks I've got her running a bed and breakfast for me and Mr. Wonderful. At least I think she washed the sheets...hey, wait a minute...)


I'm now questioning everything I've ever believed in. Has she EVER washed the sheets? She's probably been all passive-aggressive, giggling to herself everytime we come, wondering if this is the weekend we'll end up with body lice. And crossing her fingers and praying hard that it will be. At least, I know that's what I would do if she kept coming to visit me every weekend, uninvited. And after all I've done for her...
What have I done for her? Well lots of stuff. I can't think of anything right now of course, but I will. And then you'll see... my side.

You want to know about Yahtzee? Who really cares about Yahtzee when more pressing matters are weighing heavy on the mind? Lamaze breathing is in order...(hee-hoo, hee-hoo-hee-hoo, ow,ow,owwwwww!!!!)

Fine. Let's talk about the Yahtzee.
These two aren't the innocent angels you think they are. They're Yahtzee Ninjas, out to rule the world through intimidation and extreme concentration.

Look below at how the small ones eyes have rolled up into her head as she tries to channel a "Yahtzee!" Oh, and she did. Not once, not twice, but fifty times. (I thought that would get your attention. It was only once. But it was enough to declare her the winner!)

Mr. Wonderful has had enough. He's taking his dice and going home...only it's not his dice and he's hundreds of miles from home, while the young winner's father thinks the cup is rigged. After that, it got ugly. I can't even go there.

Which reminds me of why we were at my sisters in the first place.

PROM.

Mr. Wonderful's son was going to prom and we had the joy of documenting the grand event.

Which got us to reminiscing about our own proms. Which got me to digging through some old photos at Granny and Grandaddy's house.

Can you take me to mullet town? Ahhh, who doesn't love a good mullet? If only we would've met then, we could've had matching mullets. Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Maybe it would've been just too much mullet for this ol' world to handle.

Now this is a man. Pink shirt, pink matching belt...Style baby, that's what I'm talkin 'bout.
Miami Vice is twice as nice.

Eureka! I've found gold, pure gold! The peach suit, the extra-large bowtie, the date with only her wrists showing, in the pure Victorian way. (I had no idea Mr. Wonderful was over 100 years old.)
Isn't is amazing, the more things change the more they stay the same?

Or not.