My older sister’s birthday fell on a Saturday this year. We both have kids and rarely stay out anywhere near ten o’clock at night but decided to give it a try for her birthday. Overall, we had a good time but to tell you the truth, I learned that night that I am too old for that shit.
The Evidence:
1. The thought of putting on heels made my feet swell up in a preemptive strike.
2. We were carded at the door to a club *awww, just like back in the day* by a bouncer born when I was in high school *womp-womp*.
3. I did not “get” the super slow flow over hyper-speed beats and wanted the DJ (who probably should’ve been texting his parents to let them know he was OK) to play the song being sampled in the song instead of the song.
4. I was asked to dance by someone who looked young enough to be my child…twice. Keep in mind I was wearing the least-sexy-in-the-world, a pink tunic dress that I had worn to brunch earlier that day—yeah, not exactly a day to night look—and I wear a wedding band and do not color my grey hair AND he rested his little hands on my waist when he did it. I choked the vomit back down so as not to make a scene.
5. We got home at 3 AM and were not disappointed nor impressed with the how long we did/didn’t party. My hubby asked if we had fun and I did answer him but it is very possible that I fell asleep while talking.
6. The next morning my entire body felt like it had been coated in lead by evil little gnomes in the night. Those same gnomes put sweaters on my eyeballs, the bastards, but I still had to get up and make breakfast for the kids because it was Sunday and “Are the pancakes ready, mommy?” yelled in the most chipper voices you’ve ever heard. Dammit!!!
7. From the hubby, with a grin on his face, as I sat sipping my tea to recover from making pancakes, “It’s hard being a MILF, huh?” I couldn’t even muster up the strength to smoosh his face with the palm of my hand.
I am officially too old for this shit!
