Today I am 28.
My golden birthday.
I would love to find myself in a booth somewhere eating a whole lobster and downing Blue Moons. But, alas, that is not in the cards at this point.
Very, very soon.
So today, in place of my yummy beer and lobster fest, I am having…umm…well, besides my kids leftover cold chicken fingers from the fridge for pre-breakfast, who knows.
I thought I would wake up to breakfast in bed and sonnets written in my name…and yet…nothing.
Sooo…I guess I will just sit here…alone…and wait to be surprised.
Did I mention I share my birthday with my mother in law?
If my husband gets her a better gift than me, I will totally be kicking him in the balls.
Because that’s the level of maturity I operate at on a daily basis.
28 years. What has 28 years gotten me?
Besides knocked up with a big ass?
Well, I think after 28 years, I know myself. I am not sitting here anymore questioning the universe, praying for guidance. I know what I want, and I now what I gotta do to get it.
I know I am the best accent imitator ever.
I am confident in the things I will never look sexy doing, like eating an ice cream cone in front of others, wearing a strapless bra, having a picture taken of my profile (hello double chin), going out in public with wet hair, wearing shorts, or trying to dance like the young people do.
I hate bugs, fake nails and cilantro.
I like crude 80’s movies and eating croutons from the bag.
Overall, good life.
Wishing I wasn’t so fucking close to 30 and able to spend the day tipsy without nipple leak liner things in my bra?
But, a good life none the less.