Getting Wiser

My birthday is in a few weeks, and time certainly whizzes by. It really does! I love birthdays as much as the next five year old. Except I have to watch my cake intake and forget about the candles, because at my age accidents happen. Just yesterday I ward off turning thirty like a bad curse. Yet, I can feel the hot breath of forty tight on my tail! Despite age, I am happy where I am in life and who I am. Thus, I love my family, I love my husband, and I love my friends. I love life.

As Madonna, practically a mid centurion, trollops around in a skintight lavender leotard, I feel at ease with my age. A celebrity with two children, a woman nonetheless, gives me something to look forward to. Getting older doesn't mean retiring into a field of depend underwear. If I'm careful and moisturize, attempt to practice organic, and exercise, aging should be embraceable. I feel comfortable and content in my years like the blooming magnolia in springtime. Thirties are the new twenties! Thirties is the medium between fresh and rusty. Well, that is until reality set in like a tick burrowing it's head into my skin.

Flashback: Alyssa, five year old niece, toiled with her shoe laces, "Make two bunny ears. The bunny runs around the tree. The bunny jumps in a hole. Close it up tight!" Her laces loosely unscrambled and so does her patience. I reminded her that I had a difficult time learning how to tie my shoe laces too when I was her age. My nephew Robert interrupted, "Duh velcro?" He shrugged his shoulders as if it was the answer to the meaning of life. I tried to explain to my fellow human that velcro was not invented when I was a child. His eyes popped out of his socket and his mouth dropped open. I proceeded to tell him that our household was furnished with only one television equipped with no remote control along with no cable, hence no video game. The children's eyes were wild as they were disturbed. I guess my childhood to them is what my parents walking endless miles to school and back is.

Shellie's Proverb: A sheep is nothing without his wool.


In line with the normal female, clothes is one big part of my life. Although lately, it's become a regurgitation of a bad memory. I don't mind the sixties or the seventies. However, the eighties have slinked it's outlandish paw into today's trend. Nonetheless, the trendy -yet not so trendsetting- flaunts the Pat Benatar or Rod Stewart look makes my blood clot, I'd rather squeeze the anal glands off a canine than look at one more slim fit tapered jeans. Hail Mary full of grace please do not allow the stir up pants to be reintroduced. Maybe I just don't feel like reliving my Cindy Lauper days. As this girl just want to have fun, I would rather do it in a sublime well seamed outfit.

Suppose I am getting older be it shoe laces or fashion, it is all a tell tale mélange of yore. Why all the fuss? I don't mind it not one bit. I am just a fly amongst a world of insects that's stuck in this here web called time.

Lesson: A strong Grasshopper must never throw the first blow to enemy.