I won't grow up

Malcolm will be 14 this week. Max will be 12 on June 1st. Excuse me, how did this happen? I'm getting older than I thought I was. And, just in case my sons' rapid ascent in years is not shocking enough, this week I was totally dissed just for being over 40. Yep, I found a cool preaching conference at the Cathedral College that is just for young female clergy and I thought, hooray! I can go to that. Until I read the fine print. Young is under 40. No exceptions. So, although I qualify on female and clergy, I can't participate. Whatever, I'm going to a different preaching conference next week anyway, so I don't feel like I lack homiletical opportunities, it's just that I really don't think of myself as anything but young. I still like to sleep 'til noon (although the opportunities to do so are few and far between), I still listen to music that was just released, I have all my teeth, I can still hide my grey hair with only periodic visits to the salon. But, I was born in 1966, and I just have to deal with that.

Fine, I'll just go enjoy my new red pillows on my totally cool terrace. So what if I'm not young by someone else's standards, I am young at heart and still refuse to grow up. So there.