It occured to me that today my niece, who has found this site and now monitors my blog (cursed tracking systems:)) turns 26 years old.
Because I like to fantasize that she looks to me for advice on matters philosophical and otherwise, I thought I would share with her what my life was like when I turned 26.
While my niece enters the second half of her 20's climbing the rocket scientist "ladder," my days were filled with the screeches of a certain cousin of hers.
Where my niece's evenings are filled with important decisions like, whether to rock-climb or eat dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, my 26 year old evenings were filled with strategies on how to make her cousin stop screechin' (the theme music to ABC World News Tonight had an oddly calming effect on her).
While my 26 year old niece spends this time in her life scheming and planning her next great adventure, I spent my days of that year scheming about easier ways to cook, puree and freeze carrots in ice cube trays for infant food.
Now this certain cousin of hers - who doesn't screech anymore, BTW - also reads my blog, so I don't want to leave the impression that I would have chosen a different life. All in all, those enormous sacrifices I made during my 26th year have, I hope, situated me quite nicely in the karmic scheme of things. Within the next decade, I fully expect my daughter to support me (I mean money here), or worse case scenario, provide me with free vet care for mis companiones de perros.
But, my dear niece, in case anyone starts using cruel language over the next few year like "any plans to settle down" or "biological clock," I want you to call me and I will send you videos of my daughter sitting on my shoulder and spitting up all over my head.
I am happy to send this to Jen and Gavin too, but I think they are past the point of no return and are doomed to experience the spit up for themselves.
Happy Birthday to you, and I will treat you to the LUSH product of your choice at Whistler for your BD.
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4 comments:
I think you should send the video of baby throwing up on your head to J & G just because it's funny. :)
Geesh, Em was such a deamonish child. However did you put up with her? :)
Thanks for the advise. The good news is I don't even here the faintest whisper of any sort of clock or even the ghost of a dancing baby. I blame it on my father (your brother!). His life is better than any birth control I can dream up.
I'm not above enjoying spitting up happening to other people... I'm sure it's just a matter of time for me. :)
Yeah, well, if it makes any difference I fully expect to continue climbing the "scientific ladder" was it? unimpeded for another year or so before having to deal with any spit-up. Except perhaps my own toward the end of that year if launches stay on schedule. :)
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