I'm thirty-two years old today. It's strange how little it mattered to me this morning whether or not I got any presents. If you'd asked me on my seventh birthday what I wanted, I could have handed you a mile long list, including many Strawberry Shortcake and Barbie related items.
Now I hope for a finished tile job at the new house and I bought myself a new bra. If my husband comes through with a fruit tart (my favorite) I'll consider it a good birthday. When I have a garden next year, I'll want plants to celebrate the day. This year, I'd be more than happy with a house, but since that's not going to happen for a while, I can wait and be thankful for the progress that is being made.
But if it isn't all about the number and is really all about how old you feel, I afraid I'm probably 80. However, being a geezer wouldn't be so bad. I could whap the kids with my cane and sit in a chair drinking tea.
5 years ago