In last week’s question, I asked y’all to consider whether you would choose to be thirteen years old forever or sixty-five years old forever. And once again, creativity abounds in the kasbah. Some people were solidly in the thirteen year-old camp and some people had no hesitation signing up for sixty-five for eternity. And still others took the bull by the horns, wrestled him to the ground and declared themselves the winner by claiming the wisdom of the sexagenarian as well as the youthful spunk of the teenager.
Like I said, creativity poureth over from the comments section. I am one lucky Queen to preside over such a quirky queendom.
So, what did I choose for my age forever and ever? Given that I’m struggling with this aging thing, I wasn’t at all surprised that I was looking backwards at the years of my youth and wondering if I could do thirteen again for, like, ever. When I was thirteen, I was the truest definition of awkward as a teenager could be. By then, the painful shyness had kicked in full force, all but eclipsing any memory of my once more outgoing younger years.
Not having reached sixty-five, I have no basis for comparison. Because of the ways this body is moving though the decades in a less than graceful manner, I feel pretty confident in choosing the teenager option. And like some of you crafty readers, I shall take with me the hard-earned wisdom I have now back to my thirteen year-old self. It’s a good thing I keep a journal and blog. They will become valuable resources to read, provided I can stop rolling my eyes at all of it when I’m thirteen again.
On to this week’s question:
At your Thanksgiving dinner (or any large dinner party or gathering with extended family), would you rather have to talk with your relatives about
– OR –
Which taboo dinner party topic would you choose? Sit, sip, and share. I always love to hear from you. And, for those who are celebrating it, a very Happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones!