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You are here: Home / Aging and its niceties / Walk a mile in my shoes. Better yet, drink some of my wine.

Walk a mile in my shoes. Better yet, drink some of my wine.

January 29, 2013 by Mona Andrei Leave a Comment

If you read Friday’s post about the bitter-sweet taste of birthday cake, you know that Greg and I ended last week by celebrating my birthday.

I’m going to stop now to say something quick to my kids:

STOP READING AND GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK OR SOMETHING.

To the rest of you . . .

I may be 48 but the truth is that as I anticipated our date night, I felt more like a lovesick 20-something than my actual age. I couldn’t wait for Friday’s work day to be over – not because I wanted to celebrate my birthday (which was actually on Wednesday) but because I was looking forward to date night with Greg.

Our plan? To meet at a new sushi / Asiatic restaurant sort-of near my house.

And I wasn’t disappointed. Our date night was WON-DER-FUL!!!

The company . . . the conversation . . . the food . . . the TWO BOTTLES OF WINE.

I realized that our bring-your-own-wine choice of one red and one white may have seemed a little excessive when the couple next to us raised their hairy eyebrows as I pulled the second bottle out of my purse. It was actually Greg who noticed their judgmental glare. He also recognized the man as someone who goes to our gym.

One of the nice things about being “this” age is that you come to realize that what other people think of you is none of your business. It’s also not important and 99.9% of the time it’s not even about you – but about THEM and how they feel about THEMSELVES.

So while Greg and I enjoyed the slow service (because new restaurants are notorious for being slow), Mr. and Mrs. Judgmental were completely miffed about it. Possibly because they had big plans to go home afterward and fall asleep in front of the TV – to which I would raise MY big, hairy eyebrow (if I had one).

PS. Note to my kids who are probably still reading this because they never listen to me anyway: This does not mean that you shouldn’t care about what I think of you.

PPS. Greg and I went to bed quite late on Friday *cough* AND we went to the gym on Saturday morning. As we were finishing up our workout, guess who walked into the gym . . . . Mr. Judgmental himself! Clearly, Greg and I are onto something with the two bottles of wine thing.

Click here to read Friday’s post.

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Filed Under: Aging and its niceties, Boyfriend stories, Kids, Random

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