So apparently my life is over and I didn't even know it. I made this realization, quite unexpectedly, while cooking dinner in my kitchen on an otherwise uneventful Monday evening. The revealing conversation went a little something like this:
Beloved Son: Why would anyone want to get old? Wouldn't you rather die young, like at 40 or something? What's there to do after 40?
Me: (mildly amused and slightly offended) Uh, I'm 40.
Beloved Daughter: Yeah, 40 isn't young!
Me: (mildly amused and reasonably offended) What do you mean 40 isn't young?
Beloved Daughter: Well, it's not like anyone really has a life after 40.
Me: (curiously annoyed) Oh, really?
Beloved Daughter: Think about it, Mom. What do you do with your life? You go to work. You come home. You grade papers. You take care of us. And we're almost all outta here. What will your life be when we're gone? Go to work, come home, and grade papers? That's not much of a life.
Me: (thoroughly depressed) Well, thanks for clearing that up.
Beloved Son and Daughter: (Laughing) But as long as YOU like it. That's what matters.
Me: (plotting revenge) Is that right?
Beloved Daughter: Well, it would be an okay life, I guess, for normal people. But you're not...normal.
Beloved Son: Yeah, you're not normal.
If any one of you Roaring Moms and Dads ever wondered what your adult life looks like in the eyes of your got-it-all-figured-out teens, there ya have it--abnormal and old. Shortly after this enlightening conversation, my normal, young teens went back to their exciting lives of staring into a cell phone screen and tweeting one-liners for the next 4 hours. So, I called a girlfriend and planned a Margarita night. I had to squeeze it in between my upcoming trip to Kansas City to watch my published author friend accept a Reader's Choice award and a fund raiser event. Then I searched the calendar for a day I could pencil in "Get A Life." Unfortunately, there wasn't anytime available. Maybe I'll get around to that...when I'm done grading papers and taking care of my kids.
