Glawe's Outlook

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Saying thanks

We've been hearing the "F" word coming out of the mouths of our kids lately. My husband finally sat them down and told them no more of that; we cannot tolerate the use of that word any longer. The "F" word is disgusting and they know better than to use it around us.

"Sorry," they said.

I will turn 49 this week, and my husband will reach that milestone later this month. That is the end of an era and our kids insist on using the "F" word just to get at us - FIFTY, FIFTY, FIFTY. They think it is hilarious to tease us about becoming these old, decrepit people who are now closer to fifty than they know we want to be.

I don't feel like I should have reached the end of my forties. I have discovered that my mind is not as quick as it was and I forget things unless they are written down - but I blame that not on my age but the stress in my life (like kids saying the "F" word!)

And yes, my hair is gray but I try to get that taken care of, not as often as I should, because, frankly, I forget to write it down that I need a touch up.

When we turn a certain age, the "old" jokes seem to be more prevalent, and why? Fifty is just a year away for me. Are we supposed to feel different?

When I was young, people my age were ready to move into the nursing home, so we thought.

I don't quite feel ready for that move although sometimes I think that wouldn't be a bad place to be - hot meals served on time and prepared for me, regular bed time and even transportation for weary legs.

I guess I'll have to wait a little while before I can move into the comforts of "the home."

I do know that if candles were placed on my birthday cake at this point that in the time lapse between the first lit candle and the last - there would be a pond of melted wax on the cake and my kids would probably not do that to me for fear of burning the house down.

There are advantages to 50 - we are closer to those senior citizen discounts, and the stuff we buy lilely has an automatic "lifetime" warranty.

I will make the best of this, my last year in the 40s.

But if those darn kids say that "F" word to me again as a creep closer to the new decade, I just may have to wash their mouths out with soap.