Hrumph

Hrumph. That’s something that I always thought old people said. Well I think it’s become my new catch phrase because today I am officially old.

I had to order bifocals.

My arms aren’t long enough to read some things and I got tired of looking over my glasses to read prescription bottles.

I have worn glasses since I was 8, so I am used to wearing them. What strikes me odd is that for 13 years my prescription never changed. Not one bit. However since I hit 36, it has changed 3 times in 4 years. So now that I have turned 40, apparently the warranty on my parts has expired.

I must admit that I am having trouble with this aging thing. You see The Boy is 10 years older than I am, so I kinda have a roadmap of what to expect with the old chassis (and believe me, OnStar is needed to get some parts unlocked these days). I honestly didn’t think I’d need these for a few more years…but sadly the Fountain of Youth is slowly drying up. How did I deal with this sudden realization that I was “middle aged”?

With a box of wine (gotta love tetra packs – no breakage possible!) and a carb laden dinner!

It’s funny the things you notice as you age….even at the age of 40 (which to some is ancient and to some is youthful)

• You say “ouch” when you get up from a chair
• You can actually throw your back out knitting or crocheting for too long
• My skin is dryer in the winter than it used to be. Sometimes it’s so dry it hurts from the inside out.
• I have a harder time covering the tinsel with blonde
• I don’t have to shave my legs as often (does this come under the category of “too much information?”
• I have less patience for youthful idealism and fools (often in the same package)
• Frank Sinatra is now cool as are comfortable shoes, track pants and a quiet Friday night at home with my spinning wheel and my cat
• I find myself thinking…is this it? And then I realize that yes, it is. I am exactly where I need to be, doing what I need to be doing. I no longer think the grass is greener….I just am happy that there is grass under my feet instead of above my head.

Andy Rooney was once credited with the following essay. He didn’t really write it, but I love it so much that I’m going to take poetic license and post it yet again. I am going to print this out and consider it my guiding light that all is not over – as the French say (or at least I heard that they say)…A woman is never truly interesting until after 40.

Ladies,

As I grow in age, I value women who are over 40 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 40 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, “What are you thinking?” She doesn’t care what you think.

If a woman over 40 doesn’t want to watch the game, she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And it’s usually something more interesting.

A woman over 40 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 40 give a damn what you might think about her or what she’s doing.

Women over 40 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won’t hesitate to shoot you if they think they can get away with it…

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it’s like to be unappreciated.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. They always know.

A woman over 40 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women or drag queens.
Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 40 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They’ll tell you right off you are a jerk if you are acting like one. You don’t ever have to wonder where you stand with her….

Yes, we praise women over 40 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not always reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed, hot woman of 40+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress.

Ladies, I apologize for all of us.

Andy Rooney