I feel old fartdom creeping up on me like mildew on a shower curtain. And this is why.
We went to a friend's 50th birthday party tonight. It was fun--lots of nibbles, lots of wine, tons of people packed into their apartment. Huge cake the size of a garbage can cover covered with candles.
Well, the party started at 6:00 and we got there around 6:30. And at one point, after we'd been at the party for a while, I found myself looking at my watch to see how we were doing. And it was only 8:30.
We had a babysitter and had told her we were planning on leaving the party at 10:00, which would get us home at 11:00.
But I found myself thinking--would it really make a difference to the success of this party if we stayed until 10:00? Not really. Not with 100 people in the apartment.
So I asked my husband what he thought about leaving at 9:00. He thought that would be fine.
And then I thought, why wait until 9:00? Why not leave now? Get an early start on the drive home? Get out of the party clothes and into something comfy?
People, this may have been our friend's 50th birthday party, but I swear, I feel old fartdom creeping up on me.
My only consolation was that we didn't ride down the elevator by ourselves. Other couples were also pooping out.
What's next? Pin the tail on the wheelchair?
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