I turned 42 today. I still feel 27 in my head, though. I can’t think of a time I’ll ever truly feel my age. Even with knees that creak, a back that aches and ears that occasionally ring for no reason, I think I’ll always feel younger than I am. I’m 42 and I still wrestle with my 8 year old daughter. I still on occasion carry my 6 1/2 year old son up the stairs to bed even though he’s really too heavy to carry like that anymore and more than capable of walking upstairs to bed on his own.
I’m 42 and I still listen to techno/house music from the old days on occasion, and crave going out dancing for the night. If I meet someone who has kids that are older than mine, I immediately defer to them in my head – even if they are actually younger than me. I do this all the time at church. I don’t know why I do this – especially since most times we are the same age, but I do. Because in my head I’m still 27 years old.
This morning as I left for work, CootieGirl assured me that I wasn’t old. I had to agree with her. I like being 42 so far. It feels like 27. Which is most definitely not old.