I had a birthday yesterday. I love birthdays. A year older never has made me sad. Probably something to do with having cheated death a couple of times. I'm always just happy that I got one more year out of the bargain.
I celebrated by leading my church choir in our annual Christmas program. There were a few glitches, but none of them involved me and a legendary fall off the stage while conducting (again), so I can't complain.
There's something about birthdays and aging that I just don't get. Maybe one of you can help me figure it out. Here's the thing. Based on my picture above (about two years old) if I were to tell you I just turned 29, you'd probably think one of two things:
B. Whoah. 29? Are you kidding me? What happened? Those years have NOT been kind.
BUT, if I were to tell you I just turned 59, you would probably think something like:
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? 59? WOWZERS! What's your secret? You look AMAZING!
So, given the two different reactions, why does everyone go around claiming to be 29?
By the way - As you probably guessed, I'm neither of those. How old, you ask? I don't suppose you'd believe 69? =)