I am fifty years old today and from this day forward I am allowed to do the following:
- Tell certain people in WalMart that they are ugly and need to stop wearing their pajamas out in public
- Get old lady hair (although I’m not quiet certain how one “gets” old lady hair.. maybe it just springs from the hair follicles after the 50th).
- Remind those underwear showing teen boys to pull their damn pants up..and do not even give me that look, young man.
- Smile smugly (I love alliteration) when I see a young mother struggling to pry her screaming children away from the Coca Puffs in the supermarket.
- Stop pretending that I like plain active yeast yogurt. I hate that crap. I don’t care if it’s good for me or not.
- Cancel my subscription to Cosmopolitan. Who cares that there are twenty-five new sexual positions that will get my man revved?
- Start drinking a bottle of red wine every evening because it’s “good for the heart”.
- Speaking of wine: Start drinking the really good, expensive wine because wine drinking after a certain age is considered sophisticated. A lot has changed since I used to drink Boone’s Farm and then puke in the backseat of my boyfriend’s car.
- Walk past the tampon/maxi pad aisle in the drugstore and never have to visit it again…
- Wear false eyelashes on a daily basis (where in the hell did my real lashes go anyway?)
That’s it. Like my good friend Martha Jean would say, “That’s the list.” Viva la FIFTY!!!!
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