Thirty Five

As I type this, on Saturday morning, I am prepping to attend a surprise party for my husband's best friend who turns 40 on Monday. Nothing makes me feel young and spritely quite like being 5 years younger than your husband and all of his buddies. I highly recommend it to all of you young girls who read my blog (I'm positive that there is a huge following of teens who adore my mommy ramblings but are too shy to comment. It's ok; I know I'm cool with the shizzle and all that jazz.) (See? I can speak like a YOUNGIN'!). If you're looking for a future mate, pick one who will always be older than you are. It gives you time to adjust to each decade before it arrives on your own driver's license.

Yes, it's true. This Sunday morning will be the day that I am officially closer to 40 than 30. As you read this post, I will hopefully be lying in bed, awaiting the return of my dear husband who shall be picking up our kids from their overnight at my parents' house. This age signifies "Adult." I seem to have missed that memo and am frantically scrambling for proof that I AM an adult.

Adult things I do:

1. Stay up as late as I want, whenever I want. So what if I fell asleep at 9 pm in the first few scenes of Star Wars? It was my CHOICE, damnit. See? Adult.

2. Drink coffee and as much as I want, whenever I want. Then again, I've been drinking coffee since I was 12 and all the kids drink Starbucks on their bikes and skateboards so maybe this isn't as mature as I'm pretending it to be. But it's typed out and I'm not deleting Adult Item #2.

3. Tell kids what to do. This is the best and worst aspect of adulthood but one that I do all the freaking time. Getting them to respond and ACT on my orders is a different matter. Still. I tell them what to do a lot. It COUNTS.

4. Ummm.... Attend parties for friends who are 40? That's definitely not something an immature person would do, right?

5. I'm spent. Tapped out on adult stuff and thoroughly bored with this topic, which just goes to show you that I am failing at this Adulthood concept. Whatevs. (See? Young Slang!) I can accept being that 65 year old at the concerts, wearing highly inappropriate clothing and having the 20 year olds thinking I'm cool because I bring an air of maturity to their parties, even though they secretly mock me.
See? I exude maturity. From every pore.

Bring it on, 35.