On Friday night, after the kids were asleep, Hubs and I went next door to hang out with our neighbors, who were having a party.
It didn’t take long to look around and realize: we were the OLD people at the party.
Everyone around us was in their early 20s.
And then there was us.
But we laughed and figured what the hell- gotta love having fun neighbors that you can do things with, since that means not needing a babysitter and not needing to drive anywhere.
Really, though, I’m GLAD to not still be 22 (Damn Taylor Swift and Kidz Bop for having that age stuck in my head). While I might want my 22 year-old body back, I’m perfectly happy to be past that stage.
Not everything I do will end up on social media. iPhones were out in full force, with pics taken of EVERYTHING. And then uploaded to instagram and facebook. Dear Lord, had there been smart phones and facebook back when I was 22, I don’t know if I ever would have been able to live down the stupid things I did. I’m happy that only those who actually witnessed my stupid acts could tease me about them later. Or maybe the people they told- but then it was a case of he-said, she-said and I always was good at convincing people they had their story wrong.
While I do have a bit of a social media addiction myself, I’ve learned to draw a line at what should be posted and what shouldn’t. My smart phone was back in our house, being charged.
I don’t have to drink crappy beer. I saw brands of beer that I hadn’t seen since my college days. The cheap-o stuff that no one actually liked but would stop caring about after having enough. Thankfully, in my mid-30s, we have the good stuff. Or know enough to bring our own. Or, novel idea: don’t always drink.
Nothing is THAT big of a deal. We saw one guy totally freak out, want to fight someone, and then have to have his keys wrestled away from him when he was so furious he insisted he must leave. Some teeny tiny thing set him off. Same went for the chick who was sobbing in the corner. I remember the days of one little comment or look feeling like it was the end of the world and something I’d never, ever get over. But now, those little things roll off my back much easier or they don’t even register. Or my terrible memory means that I don’t remember them anyway.
The sheriff showing up doesn’t worry me. It really and truly was NOT that loud, but one of the neighbors called to complain and the sheriff showed up. That used to seem terrifying. Like somehow, we were all going to jail or getting some massive fine. Now, I just laughed(seriously, it was NOT that loud. At all. Not even for this old lady.) and wished the sheriff wasn’t standing in the way of the cornhole board so that I could get on with the game that I was actually winning.
No one expects me to do this two nights in a row. Or even next weekend. Staying up until all hours used to seem like fun- or at least, it was just so common that I didn’t think about it. Now, I’m content to get a decent night’s sleep- I need that sleep. And it doesn’t seem lame to turn down the next party invitation- because the other folks our age have kids, too, and like their sleep, too.
I’m sure those young kids next door could come up with tons of reasons why they are so very glad to be 22, but for me, I’m fine with it just being a song that my kids sing along to in our minivan on the way to soccer practice.