My birthday is coming up in a few days and while I'm excited about it, I realized that my brother is a lot older than I am. We are separated by 7 years, so that makes him almost 34. I know that 34 isn't old and he won't be collecting Social Security for a while yet, but I somehow feel even more removed from him.
I suppose it doesn't really separate us, but man is he old....
But seriuosly, I think my little goth girl is more excited about my birthday than I am. She has made it her mission to ensure that my birthday is something special every year, since I apparently had a "lousy" childhood. Thing is, don't we all have terribly depressing childhoods? Sure, we can have everything handed to us or we can really have a BAD childhood. But doesn't every adult look back and wish things had been different? I personally think, and I try to convince Robin of this often, that the events of childhood shape us into the adults we eventually become, whether good or bad.
If I had, for instance, been blessed with more toys as a little boy, would I feel the need to fill up my house with toys as an adult? Probably not.
Why did I start writing this?
Sorry for waxing philisophical on you....
Later!
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