Two weeks ago Jac turned 30.
He looked at me over dinner and said, ” We’re married! We have four kids! I’m thirty!! When did this happen?” He was laughing until the waiter carded me and not him. Then he felt thirty.
In related news, I never know what to get my husband. This is because 1. He buys everything he wants when he wants it, 2. he owns things with words like “nano” and “wacom” . . . yeah, I don’t know what they mean either, and 3. I don’t pay attention.
So, when he started showing interest in a gaming system, first I bristled then I bit the bullet and purchased one for him.
Now we own a Nintendo Wii.
After a single evening of play, we were achy and sore and feeling ridiculous. Who is sore after a video game?
Old people, that’s who.
And you know how I know I’m old? The Wii told me so. We took the fitness challenge and it calculated my age to be 55. FIFTY-FIVE!!! As I gasped and sputtered and grew indignant, Jac said from the next room,
“That’s okay. I like older women.”
Ha. Ha. Ha.
So you see, 50 really is the new 30. Or, in my case, is it the other way around? Bah.
* Jac’s Wii age? 41. Show off.*