The Sour-Swedes are old!

Holy Sh*t, I'm old!

Last Friday night, I returned to my high school to watch my niece perform in a show. As we were leaving, I couldn't find The Swede. My nephew jokingly said to me, "He's found a nice high school girl."

I said, "Yeah, ha ha...someone half my age."

Then I quickly corrected myself. "No, a college girl would be half my age." (wrong again)

Then the scary realization hit me--even a college graduate is younger than half my age. Yikes.

It's The Swede and my shared 44th birthday today.

44.

And to think I haven't even adjusted to turning 40 yet.

For awhile, The Swede used to say "we're closer to getting our AARP cards than we are our drivers licenses." -- come to think of it he said that ten years ago. Now, we're really close to getting out AARP cards. You know what? I'm excited about it. I loves me a discount!! I can see it now, me elbowing the seniors out of the way, using my "youthful" speed and agility to be the first to get to the register at Kohl's on Wednesdays.

Wait...I just remembered that you don't get your senior discount until 55, not 50. Until then, I'll just have to keep elbowing to get to the register first without my senior discount.

The boys came in this morning with breakfast in bed for The Swede and I. Peanut butter toast, orange juice, an apple, applesauce and a Twix bar. The fact that they came in at 6:30 meant that we were able to spend a nice, leisurely time enjoying our breakfast before the morning chaos began.

I began my morning routine by feeding the pooches and letting them outside. Zoe goes out in front, while Scout goes out the back. (This arrangement solves Scout's eating disorder.) Anyway, I opened the front door to let Zoe outside, and there I saw our younger son hauling the garbage out to the curb, recycle bin and all. He wasn't even asked. It's one of the nicest things he's done for The Swede.

My plan for the day is to relax this morning, read-and hopefully finish-my book which is due back at the library tomorrow. Then I'm going to lunch with my old neighbors followed by a round of golf.

If that plan isn't a sign I'm old, I don't know what is.


Happy Birthday, Swede! I wouldn't want to share my day with anyone else. I love you.