Well it happened. Try as I might, there was nothing I could do to delay the inevitable. Today I turned the big 35. I strained in the mirror this morning trying to detect a wrinkle… well, an additional wrinkle to join its many friends. I wonder if my wrinkles throw parties for the newcomers while I sleep.. There were no party balloons when I woke up, just the apprehension of having to get out of bed at 5:30 and go to work. But of course, I wasn’t about to leave my house without forcing my 3 year old to sing me Happy Birthday. So once I made sure she completed the entire song, and gave me a big kiss, I wiped her tears away and headed out the door.
As I drove into work, I pondered over what I was like when I was 18. That was the age when I met my husband. It was my 18th birthday to be exact. He was 30. The older man idea appealed to me very much…. Finally, a guy that has his own place, a guy that has a full-time job, and more importantly, a guy that can buy liquor! What’s not to like?? Little did I know that he was the man I would end up marrying and having children with. Bliss…..
And now I am 35 years old… my husband will be pushing 50 soon. In hindsight… it really wasn’t such a good idea after all….
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