I don't mind getting older, I kind of wear it as a badge of honor, but I could do without some of the constant reminders.
Wednesday, I went to the mailbox and opened it to find a letter from the AARP, American Association of Retired People. I'm not retired.
Then when I get to work, a visiting nurse passed me a pamphlet about the Shingles vaccine, didn't even have to ask how old I am. I acted like I was reading it, but I didn't have my cheaters so I was really just faking.
I took some of this to Facebook Wednesday, warning that if a Boy Scout tried to help me across the street I would run him over with my Rascal. Really I was looking for little empathy, not so much.
Carmen said, "Keeping my Boy Scout at home."
Teresa chimed in with, "What's next " I've fallen and can't get up"?"
Don added, "Luby's early-bird special starts at 4:30."
That actually sounds really good.
Several of you told me how painful Shingles is and advised me to get the shot. think you've convinced me it's time for me to come to terms with being middle aged.
At least I'm not wearing those ridiculous light up readers like some people I know.