We are the spring-fever babies. It's Friday night and Clare, Dan and I are celebrating our upcoming birthdays collectively and in advance with a bunch of friends from uni. I have always been accustomed to sharing the spotlight around and on my birthday because there seems to have been a boom of births around the month of December. At my (young and spritey) age I have no problem drawing attention away - it is becoming a burden to explain my age...to explain how I came to look so young for a 27 year old (and no, I don't feel old at all...). Physically, I am ageing at a slower rate than most but have realized that I am emotionally old enough to appreciate the astonishment when someone learns I am 10 years older than they think.
I still get asked for ID here and there, and always have it on hand. Actually, once this fall I was carded in line at a Wilco's for a purchase of scissors. In the UK you have to be 16 to buy the common kitchen utensil. The woman working cash was stupefied when I kindly told her I was 10 years older than she had assumed. Mouth agape with awe, she asked to see a second piece of picture ID.
Can't wait till I'm forty and I look 29.
