This week while at my CHD party, I was recognized for being the oldest person there. This is one event that I will actually accept being 25 for and think of it as a good thing. {Dad said sometimes being old is a horrible thing – but this time it’s actually a good thing.} While I was there I was asked by a majority of the little ones how old I was – my response (in a kidding way) : more than twice your age. Now, this could be any age. I did let it slip in the very beginning that I was 25 to one kid, who only commented you’re as old as mommy! I wanted to hide under a rock.
My favorite memory from this weekend would have to be the CHD party : the worst being reminded I once used Kool-Aid to dye my hair at camp. I don’t remember that at all, but someone else did. I blame memory loss. That can happen at the ripe ole’ age of 25, can’t it? …definitely wasn’t left with a Red Stripe going through my hair after that event…again how the heck did I forget this? …memory suppression perhaps??
Gabbi & I were not 45 minutes late to the party because we had to get ready. Nope. We’re planners & plan out our outfits and don’t need to go buy new ones a hour before a party. We definitely didn’t do that!
