Signs I'm Getting Old
My birthday is later this week, and for some reason lately I've been obsessed about seeming and feeling old.

I am by no means actually old, in comparison with much of the rest of the world. I'm older than the kids my friends teach in middle school, but still younger than some friends who have rolled over the thirty-year-old hill. I'm still a twenty-something in the technical sense of how old I am.

But, my inner child is seeming far older than what I really am these days. And last night was proof.

I went home after work and got busy around the house doing Monday night stuff. I gathered the trash and took it out to the alley. Puttered around. There was a craft project at some point in the evening. I enjoy a relaxing Monday evening, and can always find 'house stuff' to do to keep busy.

So, the phone rings and I answer to find a friend on the other end. He asks what I'm doing.

"I'm sewing buttons onto my coat."

He was not expecting that bizarre answer, and unfortunately I couldn't think fast enough to lie-up something less lame.

Then, I stopped and realized what was going on. There I sat in my big chair by the window, with the lamp behind me fully lit up so I can see better. I'm covered in my blanket because I'm cold. I'm wearing my terry-cloth pants, which I think are cool, but which my dad pointed out were 'old lady pants' the first time he saw them. I'm also wearing fuzzy blue slippers. I have my glasses on, which keep me from not being able to see at all, but cause me to possibly look like I needed them just to see what I was doing by the light of my lamp. And, I had my coat on my lap, a needle and thread, and this is what I was doing at 8:00 on a Monday night.

I'm an old lady!!

He asked me if I was up for something, and even though I would have loved to spend time with him, I went on about getting these dang buttons back on my coat because it's so cold outside this week. Hang out with a boy? Or sew buttons on a coat. . .

I'm an old lady!! I inadvertently chose the buttons!

Needless to say, button sewing wasn't adventuresome enough for him, and he left me home alone to finish my task.

It was probably a good thing. This morning my coat stayed buttoned up completely in the cold.

That's good, right?

Young whipper-snappers, out until all hours of the night. What?? I can't hear you . . . you have to speak into my good ear . . .

C.T.