Tomorrow, as I’m sure you recall because perhaps you have a Countdown on your Google home page, is The Day — my 40th birthday. It’s okay. I am perfectly open to it. I am embracing my Womanhood. Bring it on!
I have already received several lovely cards and have decided to keep the cards from this birthday. Some day, my future granddaughter will clean them out of my basement. She will pull them out of a box.
What’s this? Ohhhhh! Grandma kept the cards from her 40th birthday. (Here she gets a little misty) They are so beautiful and such a testament to the lovely grace that was my grandma. I will create something beautiful like a decoupage footstool out of them, and put it somewhere where I can see it often and remember her and be inspired to live my life to the fullest the way she did. She always said her life really began at 40.
Oh! Ouch! What’s that blinding light?! I . . . I think I am getting a vision of the future. Yes! There is my lovely granddaughter sitting amid the boxes of my basement. She looks tired. She’s probably just so sad missing me so much. Oh! She’s saying something. Let’s listen in . . .
Can anyone explain to me why I am the one cleaning this basement out? Where is my father? Where is my Aunt Sarah? Where is my great-great-grandma?
(Wow! Well, I am not entirely surprised Gigi is still alive.)
I’m just exhausted by the thought of it. As soon as I get this done I am using my inheritance to vacation in Florida.
(The apple doesn’t fall far, does it?)
What is in this box? Are these old birthday cards?! Didn’t that woman throw anything out? And they’re from when she turned 40. How many more boxes are there like this one?! I wonder if anyone would notice if I just set a match to this whole basement.
Huh. Well, that wasn’t what I expected at all.