Just Don't Ask Her Age

Happy Birthday, Goonie! What is it with women and their age? The Goon, for the past week, has been pining about turning yet another year older. With tears welting in her eyes she says, “I don’t want to be 5! I want to be four and a half FOREVER!” So, to calm her fears about turning prematurely gray, I tell her to just lie about her age. Like all women, she’ll be doing it eventually anyway. She’s just starting…a few years before most women. For instance, her mother is…AHEM…29 (give or take 4 years). She doesn’t feel fully acclimated to being practically in her mid-thirties, so she prefers to say she feels like she is still 29. Sure. I’d like to think I’m still 20-something and can party all night. In fact, I was 31 when I last attempted an all-nighter, partying with a group of younger college peers in celebration of a successful final presentation of our business class project. ‘Course, we started the party BEFORE the evening presentation, so we were lubed up pretty good during our speeches. I think we got the vote for “Most Entertaining Group of Drunken Schmucks” award for our sales pitch. Then we ended up at a nearby nightclub with live music ‘til 4 am. This was a Tuesday. I called in sick to work on Wednesday. I will never stay out drinking ‘til 4 am ever again. Having children has pretty much sidelined any desire for nighttime weekend shenanigans anyway. So tonight, instead of going out the a local karaoke klub, or blues bar, and getting smashed, I’m going to Chuck E. Cheese and smash a few of those damn pop-up rodents, snarf some yummy ‘zza, and play my favorite video game, Galaga! Hey, who says we can’t still party in our 30’s?