Forever 19

There is a child living inside me, I swear there is. She's about 19 and isn't overweight, so she has me convinced I look good. She gets really mad, however, when she sees photographs of me (us) and sees only the older, heavy, outside person.  I've tried to convince her that's really what I look like, but she still isn't convinced and, therefore, neither am I.

 I don't think I'd have as much fun if I didn't let her out now and then, though.  She likes to make me do things, then hide behind the unassuming facade of a 59 year old housewife.  The other day I was at the movie theater, for instance, and was annoyed by a guy in the row ahead of me cracking his gum loudly and repeatedly.  Any mature middle aged person would have simply asked him to stop, but instead I found myself wadding up a piece of paper I just happened to have and throwing it at his head.  I quickly turned back to the movie as he turned to see who had hit him, inwardly snickering along with my alter ego at his confused look.  He's lucky he stopped after that warning shot, because the next one would have been a spit ball. 

And there was the time, a year or so ago when, after playing UNO for shots awhile, I began shouting out the window to the neighbors behind us that the party we could hear them having was lame and we knew how to party! I swear my daughter . . . or that 19 year old . . . or both made me do it.

There you have it. My confession to childishness.  To my credit (maybe), I do act responsibly most of the time. I pay my bills, get the check ups an over 50 year old must get, all that. But there are times I catch a glimpse of that other me, the one who'll never grow old - she's most often seen now driving my convertible, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses - and I just have to smile.

Some gushing about my granddaughter

Colleen and Brian's baby was born on the fifth and Tom and I went to see her the next day.  She is just adorable! I know I'm biased and that all babies are cute, but Riley (Riley Taylor) is just stunning. She's got the sweetest little face and long fingers and toes and her disposition is as sweet as her face. She never cried, despite being passed around from grandparent to grandparent, and occasionally to parents, too. She only fussed a bit once when she was hungry.

If I didn't know she was adopted, I'd almost believe she was Colleen and Brian's natural born daughter! She has Colleen's long fingers and toes and the shape of her foot could be a match for Colleen's at that age! Both have narrow heels. It's really uncanny!

I went out to a rummage sale to look at a Pack N Play, thinking it would be a handy crib to have here, and ended up getting it, then couldn't resist also getting a few cute clothes I saw.  I hope Colleen likes them, but it's no problem if she doesn't - they didn't cost much.

We're going to see her this weekend and I'm counting the days, and hours, till then!

Sheesh! I was trying to help!

While out in my back garden, the one dominated by a huge box elder tree, I noticed a baby bird in the grass. Not wanting to accidentally step on it, I decided to shoo it over to a more protected spot. Little did I know my good intentions would create a riot among every bird in the yard! The birds were doing their sharp, clattering alarm calls, the baby was squawking at me (with very p'o'ed looks over its little shoulder) and all the birds followed me, cawing, chattering and squawking over my head all the way through the tree as I moved the baby along.  Finally the mom, or maybe the dad, flew down into the yard and did a wounded bird act trying to get me to leave it's baby alone.  I told the parent (and all the other birds that were carrying on in sympathy) that I was trying to help! I wasn't touching the baby! I'd leave it under this nice trailer for safety, shade, and easy access, but by the time I got it there, the whole yard of birds was involved and nothing would do until I finished my work and left the area.  I was a little surprised that blackbirds and grackles cared so much about a baby robin!  I guess, when one bird's not happy, nobody's happy!  I'm just glad none of the birds decided to dive bomb me - or bomb me in another way!