I told her the age I am now.
And now (as of today) that age is 39.
It's a good age. Adam and I have an entire year to plan a bash for our joint 40th birthday party.
I feel like I can be a little demanding since it is my birthday: Janet will you bring your onion dip? Jill will you bring your salsa? Stephanie will you bring that dip/cheesecake/something amazing we had at your house the night we played Qwirkle? (I can't remember, I am getting old.) As for my brothers and sisters, remember how everyone went to Marianne's 40th? You could all stay with me. Just imagine. The teenagers! The babies! The long legs! The facial hair! It would be a sight to behold.
I quite like getting older. I feel smarter, wiser, more confident and more knowledgeable about what matters most.
(Sometimes I still feel really dumb, anxious, self conscious and adrift so you can see how far I had to come.)
I like getting older with Adam. If Adam's with me, everything is more fun. Especially birthdays.
Happy Birthday to the one who puts things back together (me) when they fall apart (me again), makes me laugh every single day, and is the ringleader of every adventure worth having.
|I love you, Birthday Boy|