First sign of aging:
I get excited when my children have a good poopie everyday
I get excited when I have a poopie everyday.
When Matt gets home I ask him
"How was your day?"
"Did you go poopie today?"
-absolutely it was awesome. How about you?
As you can see Matt is my co-conspirator in aging.
Second sign of aging:
Lame-o hobbies ie coin collecting (no offense Phil).
Our idea of a romantic evening is cracking open a box of dimes (a box contains 2,500 dimes) and searching for those rare 90 percenters (if you don't know what I am talking about you are obviously neither old or lame). I am quite fond of the occasional Mercury head dime.
Third sign of aging:
I am genuinely thrilled when Oliver and I come across a new episode of Curious George that we have not seen before. At the moment there are 43 episodes on my DVR. I don't save them for Oliver, I save them for me so I don't have to watch the same one over and over, I like a little variety in my day. That little monkey makes me smile.
Forth sign of aging:
Those pesky gray hairs that are making themselves at home on my temples. I pull them out and try to pretend they don't exist but I have heard that for every gray you pluck, three more show up to it's funeral. My head has become a funeral home of constant mourning. So so sad.