S. O. B. Month

We’ve got our own month. Yippee!

February is “Spunky Old Broads” month.

Finally, a month for me.

I am spunky. I’m old (by my children’s standards anyway.) And I’m definitely broad.
I don’t want to change the spunky; I can’t change the old, except to get older. And I probably won’t change broad, unless to get broader.

This year, I’ll be 60. And you know what? I think I really like this age. Of course, it’s just as well, since there’s not a whole lot that can be done about that.

But I’m identifying with Erma Bombeck, Maxine and others who are comfortable being middle-aged and beyond.

Things that used to bother me don’t bother me now. I know longer wonder or worry about what other people think about me. What I’ve really learned is that it’s no need to wonder what others think about us because usually they don’t.
That’s right. Usually others aren’t thinking about us at all – good or bad.

One thing it means to be a Spunky Old Broad is that I usually embarrass my children. It’s not on purpose; it’s just by being me. Of course, that’s been going on for years.

And then there’s something else about being broad. I think my 11-month-old grandson likes the broad part. When I’m holding him, there’s a whole lot more skin to grab onto around my neck than around his mother’s.

Sometimes, at a banquet or dinner, when food is already on the table, I eat dessert first. I wouldn’t have done that 30 or so years ago. If it’s a dessert I really like, I certainly don’t want to fill up on the other stuff first! See? My priorities have changed.

Life is great, and being an S.O.B. is fantastic!