I went to the doctor this morning and she wants to give me some injections in my neck. There was a question of whether or not I wanted to be sedated. Silly question. I ALWAYS WANT TO BE SEDATED. In any given situation, I can pretty much guarantee you that I would rather be sedated. I have two teenagers. I’d like to be sedated for the next 6 to 13 years.
My neck has been giving me problems for years but now that I’m getting older it is getting worse. I know that it’s getting worse because I can feel it and I know that I’m getting older because my kids NEVER STOP MENTIONING IT.
My birthday is this month. Most days I feel about 80, 85, but I’m actually only going to be 35.
My family and I saw an old friend of mine the other day and Thing 2 couldn’t wait to say, “I can’t believe you guys went to school with her! She looks so much younger than you!”
No, I didn’t smack him but I thought about it.
Then today we ran into another old friend and here he goes again. This time he says, “How come everyone you went to school with looks younger or older than you?” Um, because they have to be one of the two? Knowing I wasn’t going to like the answer, I asked the question anyway.
Then this happened.
How I managed to do that, I will probably never know, but I do know that 20 ounces of chocolate milk can cover a lot of territory in a car and it’s very, very sticky.
Since my birthday is coming up, my husband has been giving me little gifts all month long. (I KNOW, RIGHT?) This was his latest and I absolutely love it for so many reasons. It is warm and cozy. It has pockets. It has a hood. And it embarrasses the crap out of my kids who deserve it because they keep calling me old.
Is there a better gift in this world than a bright blue adult onesie WITH POCKETS? No. No, there is not.