I turned 36 today.
Flowers, smiles, hugs, notes and calls from family and friends, dinner out with my loved ones, my most favorite cake in the whole world, and fresh snow on the ground—what more could I want on my birthday? It was a cold and beautiful day and I truly enjoyed it. And I don't feel older. Actually, I still feel quite young. Maybe not physically, that depends on the day, but definitely in spirit.
I remember walking home from elementary school one day with my friend who lived across the street. Her brother was older than we were, making him way cooler and more mature in our eyes, and we coveted his homework. This being in the years before wheeled backpacks were required before first grade to accommodate all the take-home assignments, we were on our way home to play with Cabbage Patch dolls or My Little Ponies or the like, but decided instead to do "homework" because we thought it was time to start being more grown up.
I'm sure we felt very adult that day, and there have been other remarkable days in my past when I've felt rather adult, too, but it's an elusive feeling. Mostly I just feel like an imposter in an adult's body.
I still sleep with a stuffed animal, after all, and wear the bib when eating crab out at dinner.
Best elephant birthday art ever!
