Seventy-five percent of my children have a cold. The only one who does not has a broken collarbone.
So it was inevitable that I caught it, too, very much against my will. For one thing, today is (was?) my birthday. I am too old to catch the common cold. (Ha. Don’t you wish?)
While walking the dog this morning and discussing my age, my 1o-year old daughter pointed out, “Both of my parents are elderly.” I laughed out loud. Then, encouraged by my reaction, she intoned, “My parents will be pushing each other around in wheelchairs at my wedding.”
Oh! That child makes me laugh.
I had a quiet birthday. My husband and I went to lunch where we used up a $25 birthday credit. I love a bargain, so that felt quite satisfying. Then after lunch we came home via the route along the coast. The sun was bright today, so the water was such a beautiful deep blue color.
And now I’m taking my sore throat to bed where I hope to ignore it and sleep.
Also? I don’t really mind my age, but I’m kind of mad at the whole idea of getting old and dying.