Getting a Tad Older

This past weekend (May 25) I celebrated my birthday. I turned 8. Yes you read this correctly.

When I was in my 30s (just a couple of years ago – well seems like) I got tired of listening to my friends whine about turning 30. Like this was a big crisis or something. Gimme a break! I came up with “birthday math” and you have to be at least 30 before you can start this process.

You take the digits of your age, using 30, and add together. So 3 + 0 = 3

Since I’m really not embarrassed over my age (although this picture of me when I really was 8 is a whole nother story*), when you take 5 + 3 you get 8. I do look slightly different now at this current version of 8!

Now people keep thinking it’s important to remind me that as one gets older strange things happen. For example one isn’t as graceful as they once were.

Umm, no one ever accused me of being graceful! Definitely not a word used to describe me – at any age and no matter how many times I’ve been 8. So, when I fell this weekend – tripped over stuff in the shed (love how things are put in there) – and landed mostly straight down on my left knee, somehow got a bruise on my right thigh and hit my head, (OUCH by the way. OK, so something worse than ouch was said) I was told that at my age I should be careful.

WHAT?????????????? The age of 53 isn’t all that old. And, as I said, I’ve not been known for grace and agility. I don’t feel sorry for myself – I should have been paying closer attention to my surroundings. The biggest issue is the fact that we live in a tri-level and to get anywhere in the house requires STAIRS.

So, like that “other” challenge I have (that epilepsy thing), I’m limping through. Yes, OK pun intended.

Hmm, it’s a shame I didn’t get my husband to do the laundry yesterday…

*I hated this hair cut. Shortly after this class picture was taken I decided to make a modification. I cut what I thought was an unruly chunk of hair around the bangs. Mom and Grandma were not happy!

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