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Immature For My Age

I thought, or at least I had hoped I had grown up a little in the last twenty years.  Results are not looking good, my friends.  To put it in perspective, yesterday I learned I still have zero self-control with the Chex Muddy Buddies.  I know they are going to make me sick if I eat too many.  I know this is going to happen, and I keep putting them in my mouth.  I made a full eight cup batch yesterday, and if I'm doing the math correctly, that means I ate about...eight cups.  I hurt.  My stomach hurts.  My teeth hurt.  My self-respect is in complete shambles.  Twenty years older and same dang results as the last time...  

I thought the adult me would have things together.  It turns out, the adult me is just a wrinklier, less fit version of the kid me.  What a freaking let down.  

Boy, if I have figured out so little in the first almost forty years, God might need to give me the extended warranty.  I'm a slow learner.  I think "late bloomer" is another moniker I've claimed.  Ross and I are already prepared to be mistaken for the kids' grandparents as they enter school.  It won't be long before the kids are preparing to "not know who those old people are."  We have decided to just own it.  Ross has the fanny-pack loaded and ready to go.  I'm going to get bangs and start working on my turtleneck game.  These things take time to perfect. 

People used to say I was mature for my age.  That stopped around the time I turned twelve.  I'm now thirty-eight with the maturity level of a pre-teen.  Some people do all their growing early.  Some people do all of their maturing early.  I kept growing.  Now I'm a thirty-eight-year-old with man hands and the maturity of a twelve-year-old.  Awesome.  How's that working out for me?  Everything makes me cry, and when I'm mad I throw shoes at the wall.  Great.  It's really great.  Our kids ought to turn out just fine. 

But seriously, how did I get old so fast?  I was just in the young adult group last week, and now I'm hanging out in the bathroom line with all the other drippy nose, middle-aged moms.  In my head, I'm not old.  But my body needs Asprin and Tums and my slippers stat.  No really, I gotta go...    

    

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