A brief mid-life freak out

I’ve never worried too much about getting old. I grew up in a large family where, no matter how you ran the numbers, I always ended up being the youngest; always sat at the kids table. I’ve been referred to as “Babydoll” and now, “Aunt Babydoll” for as long as I can remember.

Every birthday I think – it’s okay, I might be 30 but I am still younger than… fill in any family name here.

This all changed yesterday, when upon my arrival at work, I went to bathroom and found…

wait for it…

my first gray hair. Gray hair? WTF? Babydoll’s do not get gray hair.

What’s next spider veins and age spots? Is it one quick slide from here to liquefied diets and adult diapers?

I don’t want to appear melodramatic but I’m not sure there is that much time left between now and when I find myself being fitted for a new set of teeth.

Ah!

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