Monday, July 16, 2007

Go Shorty, It's Your Birthday

Yesterday morning while getting ready to go visit Beehive's sister and newest of the Baby Beehives, my darling boy turned to me and said, "Aw, you have sleepy eyes," and handed me some eye stress gel.

I checked my face out in the bathroom mirror and I just looked busted. Those were no sleepy eyes...those were old people bags!

This, combined with my birthday coming up tomorrow, set me over the edge. I tried to fight it, but next thing I know, he's asking me what's wrong and I burst out hysterically crying.

"i'm OLD" I sobbed.

Now, admittedly, I have REALLY bad pms this week {yes, grandma over here still has her menses. Crazy, I know} so every little thing has been blown out of proportion beyond even my own comprehension. But I honestly hadn't really thought about the number. I'm usually pretty excited about my birthday, and I'm all about celebrating it--but this year, not so much.

Funny, I always loved to see the look on people's faces when I would bust out with my real age. There was always that look of utter disbelief, followed by gushes of "WOW. You look great!" and topped off with "You Cougar!" when sighted with whatever young stud of the hour I happened to have by my side.

My current long-term young stud was perplexed at my sudden outburst, and in a fit of panic, began to laugh at my angst. This only fueled my hysteria even more. In the most unladylike of ways, I curled up in a ball on the bed, in his arms, and wailed. Snot coming out of every pore, he just let me be until I was spent, sniffling and snorting like a French Bull Dog with asthma.

In my head I started to tick off all the things I "forgot" to do so far in my life--

-Get married and have lots of kids. Check.
-Make tons and tons of money. Check.
-Save tons and tons of aforementioned money. Check.
-Live in big, giant house and have vacation home on side. Check.
-Find cure for cancer or other big disease. Check.

Now, as the rapist likes to say, "What are you, ninety years old and about to die?"

Sometimes, I certainly feel that way.

At any rate, I got myself together and was able to keep all crying jags in check during our visit upstate. I splashed around in the pool with all the Beehive nephews and felt great. See? I'm not old! Old people aren't fun! Old people don't splash around in the pool with reckless abandon! Old people sit in the shade and watch others have fun...

"You're face is getting wrinkly" says Beehive Nephew #1.

Kid, you picked the WRONG day to say that!!



Anonymous said...

thats why kids occasionally need to be shot. lol...

but you are not old, and oh yeah, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! (its after midnight, so....)

roopa said...

happy birthday, gorgeous!