I am 37 years old.
I still remember most of high school like it just happened yesterday.
I’m fine with my own kids aging (for the most part) but when I hear that kids I used to babysit are married, or having their own kids or (gasp) getting divorced, I feel about 901.
I listen to almost all the same music as my kids do, and still rock out to favourites from my youth.
I still think it’s fun to splash in the water in the summer and drink from the hose.
I still put ponytails and braids in my hair.
I still watch animated movies and LOVE them.
Occasionally, when walking somewhere, I have been known to skip. Just because.
I still harbour the dreams that if I wanted to, and really buckled down, there is a chance that I could one day be an Olympic athlete.
I still laugh until I cry or cough when something is really funny to me. Same as I did when I was seven.
I like candy.
I like it when I get overtired and suddenly every single thing seems silly and hilariously funny.
When I meet new people, whether in person or over the internet or what have you, I immediately imagine that we could be best friends.
I think braids are elegant.
I still get scared when I’m the only adult in the house and need to have lights on way later than usual.
I’m 37. And I’m still a child at heart.