Sorry to break it to you… but you’re just plain old.
It didn’t even occur to me today that Steve was late coming home from school until I talked to him on the phone and realized what time it was. He got home at nearly 7pm then said to me,
“Man, I’m stupid.”
“You are? What did you do?”
“Played football with the guys after school.”
“Did you hurt yourself?” (Note that I’m thinking of the time a couple of seasons ago where he tried to play softball on our church’s team. Every time he played he pulled something.)
“No… but I’m gonna be sooooooore!”
“Well, you’re just going to have to learn that you’re not 23 anymore.”
Now he’s lying on the couch watching the World Series and every few minutes resonates a complaint…
“Ohhh, I hurt all over. Ohhh I’m sore all over. Except my head. Oh, and this arm. But other than that, I’m sore alllll over.”
Old man.
Now me, I’m just lucky I was able to type this post with the way my eyes are burning from the scents of Peppermint, Storm Watch, and Amber Romance floating in the air… I tell you me, those three do not make a good combination!
