Today, as a wise person astutely pointed out, I'm 1/3 of a century old. I'll let you do the math.
I miss the parties I had as a kid...I was lucky that my parents made a big deal out of birthdays and it was the one day of the year when I got to have my way, eat what I wanted, and open gifts and hear songs in my honor.
I imagined it must be like being a king...I would get drunk on the power and by the end of the day be sulking in my room with a sugar headache and furious that I had to wait another 365 days to be treated like royalty that I assumed I was.
Now...parties aren't quite the same. No hats, no balloons, no crepe-paper and banners.
It makes me a little bit jealous of Baby the bulldog.