As my birthday year draws to a close (birthday years, much like fiscal years, do not finish at the calendar end of the year for me) I have been thinking deep thoughts and plucking white hairs. I regularly look at other people in my age bracket and think they look like an adult, while I do not. I compare my visual age to theirs and almost always I fall short. The first lesson of my day brought this into question for me. I am an adult, I own a car and pay my bills. I own a very small business. I have both an IRA and Roth IRA. But if looking like an adult means not saving turtles out of the road or playing with toys or looking for the enchanted, whimsical, and silly in life, then fuck it. I don't need it.
When I visited my favorite bench on my lunch break today, this is what I found.
I think it is a sign from God. That or some little kid was raptured from this very bench.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
1 comment:
I think you make a mighty fine adult!
Post a Comment