I tried last night to come up with wise words on turning 40. But word retrieval issues kept getting in my way.
Sage advice from a 40 year old: Do not play Taboo during your birthday weekend. Just skip it, politely decline or scream, “NO FUCKING WAY” at the top of your lungs. Seriously.
You see, I was once a fairly competitive gamer. At least in my own head. My husband and I were in a regular game group, before kids, and loved it. I may have developed a bit of a reputation as being a little too competitive. But I just called it being a WINNER. So it was with a touch of this former glory that I approached the game last weekend. Let’s just say I blew out the candles on humble pie for my birthday. I completely and utterly stunk. I believe the jewel on my birthday crown was when I had the word, Ballistic, and I said, “He went BLANK.” over and over until that little sand timer mercifully played me off like keyboard cat.
edit to add, YOU MUST WATCH THIS. If ever I am down, this never fails to bring the mirth.
Yeah, so I am happy with 40. Not freaked out about the number. Just a little freaked out that I need to shop at the large print section of the bookstore, that my butt needs it’s own pull behind wheeled trolley, and that I appear to be just a shadow of my former Gamer self. But I still challenge anyone to beat me at AIR HOCKEY. I reign SUPREME.