I'm having one today. My 27th birthday. And I can't think of anything witty, funny or poignant to write about it.
My mom called me this morning to wish me a happy one. She even sang.
"Happy birthday to you.
You live in a zoo
With lions and tigers
and monkeys like you."
And we talked about "27" and how close it is to 30. We agreed that I'm not exactly clinging to my youth. I'm not scared of 30. or 40 for that matter. I think it's because I like where my life is right now, and I don't feel like there's something I need to do before I reach those milestones.
I've lived these first 27 years fully. I've sown *a lot* of wild oats. I've done things I'm ashamed of, but also a lot of things I'm proud of. And these 27 years have earned me my beautiful family.
I am celebrating today with brownies and a nap. And I might even raid my change stash and go to the pottery painting place, something I've been meaning to do for months.
PS. That's a ping pong ball in my mouth. I spent a lot of my babyhood with a ping pong ball in my mouth.
