Happy Birthday to me
I have definitely enjoyed the inevitable transformation into a grumpy old git. I now: prefer to sit down in pubs rather than stand, I don't understand rap music at all and hanker for the "old days" when beer was £1 a pint and you could still buy Spangles.
I have the obvious signs of a 57 year old: distinctive hair style, bad hearing, backache, reading glasses(always being lost) and wearing 5 layers of clothes and still feeling the cold.
However(there has to be a however), I refuse to grow up!
I still have my toys(boys without toys=grown ups).
I still think like a 16 year old where woman are concerned.
I refuse to watch Coronation Street.
I'm constantly researching for my next toy.
As I approach my bus pass I look forward to more cantancerous years and wonder when I too will start to use the phrase "I'm only an old age pensioner" and when I will constantly tell people that I'm xx "years of age".
For all the younger people out there, in your 30's or 40's, beware the day when you suddenly understand what a "draught" is. My mother would constantly tell me to close doors to keep out draughts when I was a child. I never really saw what all the fuss was about. I don't know when it happened but I now share this obsession with battling against draughts by grumpily closing doors.
I'm quite happy being 57 years of age and I look forward to getting my bus pass and state pension when I too can spend my time filling up the buses and watching younger people stand on their way to work.
I'm off to the shops this afternoon to buy my first jar of Horlicks and to look at cardigans, slippers and high-waisted trousers.