You look like a monkey and you smell like one too!
Yes, I know I smell, and now I smell one year older.
Happy Birthday to me!!!
I think the kids and I are going to celebrate tomorrow.
Or I could pretend I am not getting any older. I could hide my head in a hole and just pretend I'm still in my twenties.
I could call it my such and such annual 29th Birthday, for the rest of my life.
I could stay up until 3am and pretend it would not kill me the next day.
I could eat a whole batch of chocolate chip cookie dough and pretend I won't gain 10 pounds
I could play Nintendo all evening long and pretend I didn't have any thing else to take care of.
I could eat A LOT of ice cream and pretend it won't give me gas.
I could read a book all day long and pretend I don't hear 4 children trying to murder each other and tear the house down around our ears.
I could eat whatever I want and pretend I'm not making sure I have enough fiber to not be totally blocked up for the next week.
I could wear a mini skirt and pretend I'm not worried about the whole world seeing my g's and my varicose veins.
I could go on a roller coaster and pretend I'm not totally nauseous and shaky for the rest of the day.
I could decide to not make dinner and just eat popcorn if I get hungry and pretend I don't have 5 other mouths and rumbley tummies to worry about.
I could pretend the baby I'm holding is my older sister's child because I'm much too young to have children of my own, let alone 4 of them!
I could pretend the prom dress hanging in the back of my closet is not hideously out of style.
I could pretend those lines on my tummy and butt are just lumpuckaroo from my jeans that are just a tich too tight and not stretch marks.
I could pretend I still look good in jeans that are just a tich too tight.
I could pretend to be happy about having another birthday and being yet another year older.
I could pretend to happily claim all of the things, good and bad, that have happened in my life to bring me to this blessed year and have made me who I am today.
I could act like a crazy twenty something year old instead of a crazy thirty something year old!
How can it be that I'm thirty something?
See how I'm not telling you exactly how thirty something I am?
Ya, I'm sneaky like that.
Let's just say I'm thirty enough to have dairy induced flatulence and an ever so week tummy at theme parks, not to mention varicose veins and 4 children!
Where did that come from?
Those are problems my mother used to gripe about. Now it's me!!! I've almost turned into my
Ya, Ya, I heard you, Happy Birthday to me!