I’ve been lying about my age for years.
Why? Because it’s funny and I like it. Also, I’m Asian, so I can get away with it.
I always request my birthday off from work. The tradition started at my first job where no one came in on their birthday. This year I enjoyed a relaxing morning with baby, got a massage, and leisurely wandered through a Target ( a luxury, now!).
For dinner I ordered a giant sampler plate from Mesob. Wish I could have put a candle in the middle.
I turn another year older as we enter year two of a global pandemic. I liked the one without rush hour better.
The other day I visited Boba & Tea in East St. Paul and found myself amidst a sea of twenty high school students who just got out of school. One girl started chatting with me. “I had to do 20 push-ups to be here!”
“They must think I’m one of them!” I thought as I grabbed my drink.
When I returned to my car and checked my rearview mirror, I saw my forehead crevices and undereye bags. They must have seen me for what I am, a nice mom. . .
My first clue I was getting older occurred a few years ago at work. I wondered if I could join a “young adult” group and my boss was like “You’re not a young adult, you’re an adult adult!”
I felt mortally offended.
Now, I definitely can’t say I’m still a young adult. But, I’ll enjoy my last adult-adult years.
You know you’re 37 when . . .
- You refuse to sign up for any more social media platforms.
- Twitter starts to remind you of Facebook
- You have a special song about concealer. And make-up primer reminds you too much of last year’s porch repair wood putty process.
- Your Zoolander references date you.
- You worry your name will be your generation’s “Karen.”
- You’re always concerned the students from the college next-door are dressed too lightly and might be cold.
- 33 felt excited about getting new gutters. 37 finally got the new gutters.
- 33 felt Uncle Rico trying to throw a football over them mountains. Every dude is an Uncle Rico now.
- Your Napoleon Dynamite references also date you.
- You let the young people have their mom jeans.
- You remember thinking the older guy you dated in your 20’s was nuts when he closed his eyes and blissed-out when that song at the end of Breakfast Club played on the radio. You find yourself having this moment when Michelle Branch came on the radio.
- You find yourself relating more to Martin Short than Selena Gomez on Only Murders in the Building.
- You wonder if you’re experiencing a legitimate annoyance or if it’s an old woman yelling at the clouds type of thing.
- Your favorite Youtuber describes a shirt that you thought looked nice as “mommish.”
- You entertain the idea of popping in to the Talbot’s store you drive past every day.
- You wake the baby up with your creaky joints.
Insert scene from Scrubs where Ted goes “It’s my birthday.”
Sings in sad Ted voice, “And many more. . . “