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Ever seen that reality show, "Extreme Makeover?"

It seems Guilford, the uniform-wearing insect (center) who serves as the mascot of the Greensboro Grasshoppers, could've been a guest on the show over the off season. He unveiled his "fresh" new look (right) Monday at NewBridge Bank Park in the Hoppers' home opener.

The question around the water cooler the next day: "Did you SEE the new Grasshopper?"

The answers: "Ughhh, yeah." "I like the old one better." "It doesn't even LOOK like a Grasshopper." "Why'd they change it?"

The question I wanted to know: What happened to GiGi (left), presumably Guilford's main squeeze for several years running, and Timmy (too shy for pictures), who seemed a little slow but was OK with being the third wheel?

The official word from the Grasshoppers is this:

"The 2008 season will see Guilford take the lone reigns [SIC] over mascot duties at the ballpark with GiGi and Timmy finding alternate employment. Gigi, who unfortunately is allergic to dogs, moved to Grasshoppers Island in Australia and became a local tour guide. Timmy decided to stay local and will be working with students around the Triad as a staff member of the Bryan Family YMCA. Timmy will work with a variety of activities for the YMCA and will still be active throughout the Greensboro area."

Now, I don't like to gossip or start any rumors, but this story bugs me. (Yes, pun intended.)

See, I've been to Australia, and there's no Grasshoppers Island. I think it's a cover-up.

I think Guilford was gone for his fancy makeover too long. GiGi got tired of waiting on her beau, and Timmy started looking pretty good. (Frankly, he's a hunk compared to the new Guilford.)

And, of course, Guilford's the star, so he got them both axed.

Now, I can't prove it. But if you see any turtles with fuzzy red hair or any larvae with goofy grins around town, you'll know I'm right.

"Check this out," my husband said, laughing. And there they were. In an ad. They were labeled "patio dresses." But they were, in fact, the same shapeless, knee-length house dresses that my mother-in-law used to wear. A little like a house coat, except that you pull them over instead of buttoning them up.

My mother-in-law accessorized with her Girl Scout shoes -- brown, lace-up, low heels -- and as often as not with an apron tied around her waist. Rushing from oven to stove and back again. Grandchild balanced on one hip. The look suited her.

So there's that ad, and it hit me like a well-aimed brick that it's targeting my generation. All the boomers growing old in America. It's only natural that we women would want to put aside our T-shirts and jeans and go straight to house dresses.

Speaking only for myself: Hell, no. I won't go.

-- Teresa Prout

So now I know why my sinuses have been under attack.

Ever since I can remember, allergies have been a runny, sneezy, stopped up, nose-itchingly part of my life. I started on Seldane, which Dennis Miller once called "the antihistamine of the stars." (Can you name that movie, folks?) Then it was Claritin, which cleared the airways but gave me headaches. Then Zyrtec did the job.

And I get spring fever. I love being outside in shorts and flip-flops. My pots are planted with basil sprouts. I'm going to see the Grasshoppers this weekend.

What stinks about this time of year, with all of its blooms, buds and baseball, is how much I dislike taking medications. It's not a guy thing, it's a I-don't-want-to-take-lab-manufactured-drugs thing.

But this year I buckled again and bought some allergy medicine. When your eyes look like roadmaps first thing in the morning (without any fun from the night before) and your nose is swollen shut, it's time to break down. Once I heard that if you regularly eat local honey, it will reduce your allergies.

Whatever. I'll just suffer with the rest of those with exploding noses. Got a tissue?

My 7-year-old son's school, Morehead Elementary, held a book fair this week. As part of the fair, they filled a jar with jelly beans and asked the kids to guess how many beans the jar contained. Riley guessed 500, a figure I knew was absurdly high and told him as much.

"Are you sure you want to stick with that guess?" I said, hoping he'd succumb to the power of my paternal persuasion.

"Yup, 500," he said without any hesitation.

As much as it bothered me to submit such a ridiculous guess, I didn't intervene. Besides, I thought, a great teaching moment was at hand. When my son sees I was right, I figured, he'll learn to trust me more. He'll come away from this contest knowing he can always turn to me in times of need, secure in the knowledge that the advice I dispense will be both wise and reasoned.

This just in: 506 jelly beans.

To the victor goes the spoils. In this case, Riley won a new book and something even more precious: A chance to hold his victory over the old man's head until he turns, oh, say 18.

Even now, three days, later, I am still hearing about it. Good for him.

And I learned something, too: Have a little faith.

My mother was in town until yesterday evening, and in the week she was here, we did more fun things in Greensboro than in all the years I've lived here, practically. To wit: Last Thursday we saw "Rent" at the coliseum. Sunday afternoon we attended Nikki Giovanni's free poetry reading at the Carolina Theatre, and a few hours later we saw Polecat Creek's free concert at Center City Park. So next time you're sitting around bored, thinking there's nothing to do, or that you can't afford to do it, pick up Go Triad or go online and find something: There are lots of fun, free events all the time, but especially with the bicentennial happening. I tend to be a homebody, but I can honestly say I am so glad we went to everything we did. We were exhausted, but better off for it!