So it's my birthday in a few days. I'll be 44. That's dangerously close to 45, which is halfway to 50, which is two times 25...which is the birthday I remember most.
I was working in the same office as my husband when I celebrated my 25th birthday. We weren't married -- we were, however, in that delightful stage where everything the other person does is incredible. The air between us was electric-- so much so that many of our co-workers steered clear whenever the two of us were near the microwave in the break room.
Flirting and laughing at each other's dumb jokes. Long lunches at the park. Talking. Listening. Staring at each other. You know, the usual stuff that couples do before they got married...
Anyhow...so on my 25th birthday, I arrived at the office to find a huge banner posted on the window "Welcome to the Quarter-Century Club, Gwen!" Now, I know that doesn't even remotely romantic but for some odd reason I just thought it was the most amazing thing. (I was 25, ok, give me a break).
Maybe it was because my handsome courter clearly spent a great deal of time making sure the 2 and the 5 were the same size on the banner; that the colors matched; that the candles on the birthday cake that he drew were aligned just right (if you knew him, you'd get this). Whatever the reason, that 25th birthday present was the icing on the cake (so to speak) for our relationship. Just months later we were engaged.
20 years have passed and although I'm still an active member of the quarter-century club, I'm feeling the pull of the half-century club (of which my banner-making boyfriend turned husband is now a member). I haven't started getting the AARP newsletter yet, but I have to put on reading glasses to read the back of DVDs (new), and my knees need WD40 every other day or I can't make it up the stairs at night, so I'm well on my way.
I know one thing for sure, I'm going to have to hide the art supplies. I'm fairly certain that a "Welcome to the half-century club" banner hanging above my head will not hold the same endearments as it's predecessor.
I was working in the same office as my husband when I celebrated my 25th birthday. We weren't married -- we were, however, in that delightful stage where everything the other person does is incredible. The air between us was electric-- so much so that many of our co-workers steered clear whenever the two of us were near the microwave in the break room.
Flirting and laughing at each other's dumb jokes. Long lunches at the park. Talking. Listening. Staring at each other. You know, the usual stuff that couples do before they got married...
Anyhow...so on my 25th birthday, I arrived at the office to find a huge banner posted on the window "Welcome to the Quarter-Century Club, Gwen!" Now, I know that doesn't even remotely romantic but for some odd reason I just thought it was the most amazing thing. (I was 25, ok, give me a break).
Maybe it was because my handsome courter clearly spent a great deal of time making sure the 2 and the 5 were the same size on the banner; that the colors matched; that the candles on the birthday cake that he drew were aligned just right (if you knew him, you'd get this). Whatever the reason, that 25th birthday present was the icing on the cake (so to speak) for our relationship. Just months later we were engaged.
20 years have passed and although I'm still an active member of the quarter-century club, I'm feeling the pull of the half-century club (of which my banner-making boyfriend turned husband is now a member). I haven't started getting the AARP newsletter yet, but I have to put on reading glasses to read the back of DVDs (new), and my knees need WD40 every other day or I can't make it up the stairs at night, so I'm well on my way.
I know one thing for sure, I'm going to have to hide the art supplies. I'm fairly certain that a "Welcome to the half-century club" banner hanging above my head will not hold the same endearments as it's predecessor.
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