So, do I get a free pen?

 

So Turning 50 wasn't all that bad, in fact, it had one superb advantage. You can get a free pen just for enquiring about life insurance. Over breakfast, I mentioned this to Bronnie and said "that's a bargain" and was greeted with "and for the next 25 days you get to sleep with someone two years younger than you, someone still in their 40's."

I had looked up and smiled while thinking "bitch."

Now let's be clear, I didn't then or now think that she's a bitch, in fact, I love her very much. Having said that from the 3rd of September (my birthday) to the 25th September (her birthday) every single year, she goes on and on about being two years younger. Happily, this only lasts for the 22 days and as soon as she gains that year on her birthday.... silence.

The year I turned 50 was different. I was in my fifties while she was in her forties. She was approaching middle age; I was firmly living it.
I remember sulking while staring into my cornflakes, desperately trying to think of other advantages to becoming 50... there were none.

It was my birthday so felt no guilt leaving my bowl on the table (family tradition, you do no chores on your birthday) and walked up to the bathroom.

Quickly realizing that nowadays I looked better with a face covered in shaving foam, I started to hum the Happy Birthday tune. It was that or constant loud sighs. I was just contemplating the laughter lines around my eyes, which were definitely deeper than the day before when a thought struck me. Not another advantage granted, but something that I at least could take solace in. I don't pass wind when I get up from the sofa. I smiled and without warning, farted. I returned to examining my laughter lines.

Walking out of the bathroom I was greeted by Bronnie coming up the stairs carrying some laundry. "Hey hun, do you think that I still have IT," I asked her. She looked at my belly, looked me square in the eyes and said "yes."

I drove to work, realizing as I did so that at some point over the proceeding years, my car radio had gone from Radio 1 to Radio 2 and was now flicking between Radio 2 and Radio 4. Radio 2 in the mornings when I felt awake and onto Radio 4 as soon as I had peaked on any given day. This, for me, meant anytime after 11 am.

Walking into work, one of the staff wished me a happy birthday. Rebecca, who I consider one of my work daughters, looked up and asked me my age. When I told her, she replied "Blinking heck, and I thought you were early 40's". I sauntered to my office.

As an aside, sauntering in my case isn't as sophisticated as say Daniel Craig type sauntering. Mine is a cross between my normal walk and dad dancing. Note to self, no one over the age of 49 should say "cool" unless in direct reference to temperature.

Now, looking back, turning 50 wasn't so bad. I'll let you know how 60 feels in a few short years.

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