No I was not at the EAR doctor, I was at the EYE doctor…in disbelief! “Here, I’ll write it down for you,” he said.
“Scuse me, Doc? What? What did you say?” I muttered, but what I was thinking was Plus one? PLUS ONE?!?! Plus one is supposed to mean bring a date, not the grim reaper is here with your READERS! Wahhhhhhh! (Internal wailing ensues.)
Okay, I should give you some back story.
My tech-savvy three-year-old (of generation DROID) was playing with my phone and took some pictures of me. I found them later and looked through them. Pictures you haven’t posed for are the worst kind. There it was. My butt. And then it hit me. I have somebody’s-mom butt. I mean, it’s true. I am somebody’s mom, but I guess I didn’t realize I had the butt to go with it.
Also, I have been noticing the start of wrinkles on my face. This is the point where I wish I could travel back in time and thump myself on the forehead and shove a bottle of sunscreen in my tan little hand at the pool. Same thing with my nighttime ritual. “Lotion, lotion, lotion!” then a whack on the back of my head just for effect.
And…now, I am sorry if this part proves to be an awakening for any of my dear friends, but on Facebook when you look at pictures of people you went to school with and they look like random middle aged grown ups – well, that’s you, too.
Listen, I am 36 and there’s nothing wrong with being 36 (unless you think you are 22). And even though I kept celebrating birthdays, mentally I thought I was 22 and now I have proof – in the form of almost wrinkles, middle-aged high school friends, somebody’s-mom butt and now…I need readers! This is something I definitely need to process.
So, pardon my rant. Is anyone else feeling this in some form or another?