I got to hold a baby last night. A beautiful, tiny, fine-smelling boy wrapped up in love and fashionable, N-gauge sized clothing. And my womb did not ache!
Apparently, I've entered that stage of life when I can enjoy an array of pleasures without actually having a darned thing to do with them.
Hello, vicarious living! My, aren't you looking good today!?
I'm thinking this stage of my life (often referred to as "DNR" in hospitals) is going to be pretty awesome, if you ask me. And, of course, you didn't.
Why, just today, I had the absolute pleasure of reading yet another completely mind-blowing article about Pope Francis and, even though I am no longer a Catholic in good standing, I felt a wave of love and warmth roll over me. Is it weird that I have a tiny crush on a Pope?
And, when two Yearbook girls called me over to their computer this morning to show me a photo of a young man they thought was the bomb, I was able to glance at his photo and say "Ah, like fresh laundry!" My reaction was both entertaining and perplexing to them.
Bonus, I say! I'm at the stage where people don't exactly "get" me but they have to kind of respect me, too, so I end up the winner, no matter what stupid think I just uttered!
And what advice would I give those two fine young women?
"Get used to it, girls! Life is both perplexing and funny! And sometimes the lines are really, really blurred."
Granted, I'm not yet at the "When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple" stage yet. And I'm pretty sure that, when I do reach that stage, the Internet will be a great, grey mystery to me. As will my phone number.
But, for now, at least, I'm liking this strange middling place I find myself in. One in which I can speak both freely and mysteriously--often using the very same words. I like that I am just old enough to enjoy a newborn baby without actually feeding him, yet still young enough to tell a phone scammer to cram it up his....well, that wouldn't be a very ladylike thing to say, now, would it?
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