Age must give way to youth, no doubt. But not yet, not yet.

According to Bartlett's Quotations, the above is ascribed to "Mason Cooley, U.S. aphorist".

According to Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, an aphorism is 1 : a concise statement of a principle
2 : a terse formulation of a truth or sentiment

In other words, Mason Cooley is a person known for stating the truth, I suppose. Man, I wish I could get paid for that.

None of this, though, has much to do with today's entry. I just liked the quote.

I’m getting older, but I refuse to believe it. So many things have happened lately to try to make me feel older that it seems the world is conspiring to age me 20 years in only a few months. And to make it more confusing, a huge part of me recognizes this, but another huge part of me doesn’t feel it at all.

For example, I’m buying a house. This is something that happens to adults. Last time I checked, I didn’t think I was that much of an adult. (Then again, I’m 33. Maybe I should check again.) When did I become one? I don’t recall waking up one morning and thinking, “Hey, looks like I’m an adult now!”.

To add to that, my daughter is now at the age where she’s pulling things that I distinctly remember pulling as a kid. You know, stuff like talking back, stomping your foot in a huff, lying to your parents, and being a tattletale on your younger brother. It’s the ancient parents’ curse: May you have children that treat you the same way you treated me. And it works. Parents don’t even need to announce the curse out loud. It just happens. And my parents have acknowledged that it happens not by gloating, but simply with a knowing smile and nod when I mention that their granddaughter ate all the popcorn and then blamed her brother. (This is another trap I’ve fallen into. When my children have done something good, they are “my children”. When they’ve done something questionable, they are “your daughter” and “your nephew”. When they’ve done something detestable, they become “the boy” and “the girl”.)

And to top it all off, my sister is engaged. She’s been seeing the guy for a couple years now, and he’s a fantastic person. I love him greatly, and he loves her greatly, and she loves him greatly, and everything’s just lovey-dovey. However, she’s my little sister. My little, innocent, youngest-sibling baby sister. And although we all knew it was coming, now it has happened, and that’s different. She’s not a girlfriend, she’s a fiancée. And in the fall of 2005, she’ll be a wife. And probably not too far after that, a mother. (I know, I know. That’s how these things happen. Intellectually, I’m fine with that. But please refer to the 4th and 5th sentences in this paragraph.)

And none of this mentions the fact that lately the topic of discussion among my friends and I has been back pain, how poorly we’re sleeping, whether or not our children are learning to use the potty (Not toilet. Adults use the toilet. Kids use the potty.), what music “kids these days” are listening to, how much better things used to be, what the political scene is, and when our next doctor’s appointment is.

Is this what it’s going to be like forever? I don’t think so. Life is what you make of it. Sure, there are responsibilities, and hard parts, and right now I’m in one of those, but it will pass, and things will get fun again, simply because I’ve decided so. And someday I’ll be a grandparent, and my kids will complain about how their kid destroyed the vacuum, and I’ll just give them a nod and a knowing smile.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go use the potty.