The birthday has come and gone in all it’s queasy glory, and I have come to the conclusion that I am absolutely no good at being thirty-two. That seems so…mature. My socks have bees on them. I expressed this to my husband yesterday…
Me – “You don’t mind that I’m 32, but my socks have bees on them?”
Husband – “I like that your socks have bees on them. I would be disappointed if you became too plain and stodgy as you got older.”
Me – “I don’t think you have much to worry about there. My mother wears a pirate monkey watch. My idea of stodgy is a watch that’s just a regular monkey.”
Tags: acting ones age, aging, thirty-something, young at heart