It is my birthday, again. I’m not ready for it. I remember a friend having a little freak out on her 27th birthday because she wasn’t married yet. 27? That sounds so young! That is young! I also remember my mama having a tough time turning 42. I thought she looked great, younger and prettier than the other moms at school. I hope I told her that!
I’ve never really had a problem with my age, I just don’t tell anyone. Is that wrong? I thought it was Southern. No one needs to know a lady’s age or weight. Period. But I don’t want my girls to think that aging is a bad thing, or that I want to be younger than I am. I just don’t want to put much emphasis on age. Right? It doesn’t matter how old I am. I’m not a different person today just because the calendar says I’ve been on earth one more year.