Yesterday was my brother's tenth birthday. I'd been joking around with him a few days before telling him that he's getting old now that he was in the doulbe digits. But one time, he retalliated.
This is how it went:
"So, you're turnign ten, huh, Nick?" I say.
To which he responds, "Yup."
I laugh and say, "You're getting old now, Buddy, soon you'll be turning forty."
This time, instead of laughing he says, "You've been in the double digits for almost five years, that makes you ancient."
I had no comeback to that and had been stunned. It used to be that women started worrying about their age at thirty, but I guess that too changed with the times and now women should start worrying at fifteen.
Thank you, Nicholas, for you words of cruel wisdom.
You know, I'm still miffed by that. I can't actually begin to wonder what my mom thought when she heard that, she being forty.
Anyways, onto better, less depressing subjects than my loaming age.
Today, my family went to the mall to go shopping and normally I wouldn't put that up in a post. I don't think the world actually cares about what my fashion sense. Or lack thereof. But today was diffrent. Today, I got high heels.
They're very basic and black and they make my feet look killer. (Good.) That's not why I'm happy though. No, I'm happy because they make me taller, so instead of being my normal 5'1" I'm 5'3".
Yup, a whopping two inches can make my day and school year look a ton brighter. I wonder what that says about me and my mind. Then again an accent can entertain me for awhile too.
Two inches taller and a whole lot happier, Goodnight/morning/evening/day/noon/whatever.
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