In one of my very first posts (perhaps even my first post), I wrote about the impending fiftieth birthdays that several of my friends would be celebrating (maybe “dreading” is the more accurate term) this year. I went on to brag that even though I will reach my 49th year in August, I am still just “30-something” in my mind. I hope that no one actually believed that nonsense!
The ever-increasing number of candles on my cake have resulted in many unpleasant and unwanted changes to my anatomy. Beginning at the top, my once perfect vision was gone in the blink of an eye. One day I could read the fine print on the back of a children’s Motrin bottle, and the next day not one letter was legible. I now own several pairs of magnifying glasses, which are stashed in nearly every room in the house. I am certain that very soon, I will be investing in one of those chains that you wear around your neck with a pair of my extra eyes always in reach.
Moving south, I now have developed perpetually chapped lips. This past winter, I experienced what I thought was weather-induced drying out of the lips. Not so! It has been been as hot as 90 degrees and humid here, and I am still applying lip balm daily. I can only surmise that my lips will never regain their youthful self-moisturizing ability, and that I should consider purchasing stock in the manufacturers of Chapstick.
One of the most distressing age-related morphs has occurred to my thighs. In my 30’s, I developed a small amount of cellulite on the back of my thighs, near the top. Fast forward to my early 40’s, and it began to take over every aspect of my thighs-front, back, top, bottom. My exercise regime can no longer stave off the dreaded influx of these unsightly dimples. (Aren’t dimples usually thought of as cute? On one’s cheeks or chin-YES. On one’s thighs-NO!) I recently caught a glimpse of my thighs up close and personal in a department store dressing room. I immediately realized that these are not “30-something” thighs. Wake up, Joan. Your driver’s license, birth certificate, and passport do not lie. You ARE almost 49 years old, and you have the vision, chapped lips, thighs and memory loss to prove it. (More on the memory loss issue another time…..)
Oh well, as my husband used to say, “It’s better to embrace each birthday, because it is better than the alternative.”
Let’s celebrate together. If we put all our candles on the same cake, we could make s’mores!
Have you thought of turning thirty-nineteen this year? And, if I bring my candles we can roast a pig before our s’mores (-:
Listen girls if you think entering the fabulous fifties is a downer imagine entering the sexy sixties!! Happy 5oth birthday to you all !!