Why I'm Glad I'm Old

Happy Birthday to Me - blurgh

I turned 40 four months ago.  I hated it.  Yes, my husband posted pictures of me dancing in a happy birthday hat in a Mexican restaurant, but inside, I was miserable.  To make matters worse, I was practicing being 40 for about six months before I actually turned 40.  When the subject of age would come up, I’d say, “I’m almost 40 and…”  Unfortunately, I’ve trained myself to always say that, so now I say, “I’m almost 40… crap, I am 40.”

However, over the past several months, I’ve been getting used to my new decade of life.  Then I got one of those stupid “When I was your age…” e-mails today.  You know the ones.  The adults tell kids how easy they have it.  “We didn’t have call waiting; we got a busy signal… blah blah blah.”  Really all it does is remind you that you’re an old fart.

When a Wrong Turn Becomes Oh-So-Right

Today, while running errands and thinking about how much stuff I had to get done today (and still have half a list to get through at 8PM), I made a wrong turn.  It was one of those things where to turn around would have taken just as long, if not longer, as making a large circle to the destination, so I pressed on.

I am SO glad I did because had I gone the right way, I would have missed the events of 175^th street in Hammond, Indiana on this glorious morning/afternoon.  Had I not been driving, I would have rolled down my window and filmed this.  Alas, I was, and pulling over to film little children seemed… well creepy.