I'm going to be turning thirty next week and I've decided that it would be nice if I could live to be ninety. Just old enough to have lived a good long life, and not too old to feel like I've missed the bus to heaven and am left forgotten down on earth.
Plus ninety divides very nicely by three. This means I am currently ending my first phase in life and am entering into the second phase.
So rather than share a random musing, I thought I would try and spend the next few days, before my BIG day sharing a little more about me.
Here goes.
See that scar across the bridge of my nose? I'll tell you how it got there and how I spent most of the entire first period of my life thinking I was tough.
When I was a little girl, about three or so, I slipped and hit my head on a brick. My mom tells me that when she took me to the hospital it took THREE nurses just to hold me down so I could get stitches. My, what a strong little girl I was!
See? I told you I was tough.
Here's the kicker though. A few years ago I found out that when my mom told me I had fallen on a brick, she was referring to a Duplo brick.
You know there's a big difference between a brick made of hardened clay and a oversized cheap plastic brick that is decorated in primary colors.
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