30 CAN WAIT

I am the baby of my family. 28 years old, and I'm still considered the baby. Adding to my baby complex is the fact that I married a man 13 years my senior. So for the past several years, I've been longing for the glorious day when I would turn 30. Certainly, I won't be considered a baby once I become a thirty-something.

My desire to be older is what caused me to leap for joy when I recently noticed my first strands of gray hair. I walked through my daily routine wearing my gray hair with pride and showing it to anyone who would look...gray hair being a sign of age and wisdom.

This attitude toward my gray hair continued for about a month until they became unruly. The gray strands would not do what they were told. No matter how much I brushed them, moussed them, sprayed them and cursed them, they stood straight up! Eventually I had to pluck my gray hair for vanity's sake. It was a sad day for me to see this link to maturity destroyed.

But then I started to think about what it means to be 28. To be the twenty-something trophy wife in a room full of forty-somethings. It's freaking fantastic! Why would I want to rush the inevitable and hope for old age to come sooner? Why go quietly into the night? I won't! I will rejoice in my youthfulness and encourage the baby comments I used to dread! I will pluck and color my hair to hide any sign of advancing age and hold on to 28 as long as I can! I will delight in today's miracles and forget about tomorrow's troubles...30 can wait!

"So go away cobwebs, dust go to sleep. I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep."