Today is my husband's birthday. I am actually glad he is turning the ripe old age of 31, because for the past year all I've heard is his incessant whining "I can't believe I'm thirty!!!" I figure this can't go on while he is thirty-one, because it requires an extra syllable and, really, you've been thirty for a year, you should be used to it by now. A 36-year-old wife doesn't have much sympathy for all that.
I can imagine his dread at entering his thirties, considering his overall view of age. When we were on Kos, he kept talking about "the elderly major" that worked with him. I imagined this geriatric army man, barely able to get around but proud to keep serving in the army. One day, shortly before our sojourn on Kos was over, we ran into a guy my husband knew at the grocery store. This guy was maybe in his late forties and had an overall appearance of Tommy Chong. After we were done talking to him, my husband whispered "that's the elderly major". Yea, ok. So I have an idea now of what he considers old, which means I'm going to be in BIG trouble in a couple of years.
I'm definitely not looking forward to nine years from now, when I hear the incessant whining about being 40.
Χρόνια πολλά αρκουδακι μου!