The day I turned 40 I put on yesterday's socks. I poured YooHoo on my cornflakes instead of milk, ate brown sugar out of the box, and thawed the meat for dinner on the counter. Just call me Wild Thing.
“What’s got into you?” asked Raelynn, shaking off her umbrella as she stepped into the kitchen. Raelynn was born with a manicure and a perm. She's never experienced the aggravation of a hangnail or the embarrassment of unruly frizz.
“I’ve decided to revel in life. I’m not getting any younger. I’m going to do all the things I never let myself do before. Is it raining? Watch this.” I skipped out the back door and frolicked in the raindrops, kicking and splashing through baby puddles in the driveway.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Raelynn said as held the door open for me.
“Why not?”
Suddenly I slipped in the mud and landed right on my bottom step with a hearty thud.
"Life might begin at 40," she laughed and helped me up. "But good insurance is forever."
Laugh
Click any letter for a look at my prize-winning essay from the Erma Bombeck Writing Competition. You don't even have to buy a vowel.
1 comment:
That is exactly what would happen to me! I have a huge bruise and scrape on my hand today because I ran into my SIL's van mirror... oh the teasing I'm getting about that one!
Post a Comment