So, I’m 27 this year. I love that number… 3 cubed. Yesterday my mother called me to tell me someone’s getting old. I said, “who?” Then she came up with some arbitrary number she tried to assign to my age. I told her, “Guess what mom! I’m turning 27 tomorrow!”

Not sure why that was met with silence. My mother-in-law just stopped by to give me birthday wishes. 🙂 My word is it hot outside. I have no idea where my husband is. He took the work van, so apparently he’s on a service call. He’s such a hero… keeping people from melting in their homes. But that’s another story.

So my MIL stopped by and slipped me a card. “It is your birthday today, right?”

“Yes! I’m 27!”

Would you believe she tried to add some numbers to my 27? How dare she! 🙂 “So you had Corban when you were 21?”

Corban is my youngest child, by the way. I thought about it for awhile. “Yes… that sounds about right.”

You know she had the nerve to remind me I have two older children. The woman has a lot of nerves, doesn’t she? I am 27, dammit! What is with these motherly figures trying to make me older than what I am? Speaking of children and mothers. I was just thinking… I could be a grandma. My oldest daughter is 19.

I totally want her to get settled in her life, yet at the same time, I’m looking forward to having grandchildren. Imagine me… turning 27 in a few short years, wandering the stores with my grandchild at my side.

“Grandma… can I have…”

Yeah… those are some warm and fuzzies.

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