Fuzzy

In the comments section of my previous post, an astute friend called me on my fuzzy math. Since your 30th birthday actually marks the beginning of your 31st year, there's no logic whatsoever in calling 30 your late 20s.

I feel compelled to point out that she is only 29, so therefore I have more experience as a human being. Never mind her Ph.D. Oh, those 20-somethings!

I just put Lyla and Julie down for naps. Julie took me rock climbing at Vertical Endeavors and entertained Lyla while I scaled indoor crags and set myself up to be sore tomorrow. I should probably nap too so that I can properly gorge myself tonight. We're going with another couple to a Brazilian steakhouse, where they bring you all kinds of meat on skewers until you beg them to stop. I've tried to eat just enough today to keep my stomach stretchy but not full.

Yup, this actually feels just fine. Plus, Lyla looks like Elvis in that picture, so who can complain? I think 30 is the new 20.