So, unlike the rest of the female population born in 1962, I was named after plain, dumpy Lady Bird, not tall, glamorous Jacqueline.
-- Melanie Lynne Hauser, Confessions of Super Mom
Good book if you like the idea of a woman who can clean with the power of 10,000 Swiffers -- and her kids never notice. Who pins criminals down with her Merciless Gaze, but gets pushed around by the president of the PTA. Who works hard at bringing down the local evil empire, and at checking groceries at Marvel Fine Foods.
But I've got a review of it coming out soon and don't want to say much more -- except that the passage above made me think, because I was (full disclosure) born in 1962. Not only was I not named Jacqueline (I was named after that one of my grandmothers whose name couldn't be rendered as Peggy), I remember only a couple of Jackies from my classes in school.
Oh well -- if you presuppose a world where superheroes can exist, to the point of the Justice League's having its own time share resort, a little exaggeration is nothing.
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