I’ve officially crossed the line I think. I used to worry about getting old. I’m twenty nine and have been dreading my 30th birthday. I have a lot of responsibility and now that I have two kids, I feel more like a “dad” than ever before. My hairline is receding (special thanks to my recent six dollar haircut for pointing that out to me) and my memory is not as sharp as it used to be, so I worried about getting old.
But Tuesday night I played floor hockey for twenty minutes, and today I feel it! I was sitting on the floor with Pax, when I stood up to walk into the kitchen when a sharp shooting pain in my back paralyzed me! That’s when it hit me. I don’t have to worry about getting old anymore…I am old.
Now, I know there are people who are older than me saying, “What are you talking about? You’re a young whippersnapper!” (no stereotyping there) So let me clarify. I’m not using the term old to refer to chronological age, but rather that idea that I am no longer in my ‘youth.’ And if you are honest you can remember a time when you no longer considered yourself young. Case in point, I was at a volleyball game with the teens this past summer, and it was the young verses the old. Guess which team the teens made me be on. They claimed it was only because I had kids. That was really no consolation, but I still considered myself to be a young guy helping the “old” team out. No longer. But you know what? I think I’m O.K. with it.
Hey, who says you can only blog once a day?