So I realized what one of the signs of growing older is. It's not when you hang out with your early twenty-something college friends, drink the same amount and while they get up at 8am ready to embrace the day's treasures - you are ready to clobber them over the head with the nearest blunt object and plead with them to get you something to take the pain away. It's not even when you are listening to your favorite songs - only to find out that its the "oldies" station that's playing them (I love 80's music). It's when your parents start displaying those weird habits that only REALLY old people (like your grandparents) have. I have watched this transformation take place in mine. And I am extremely scared of what my next antics will be as you always seem to turn into your parents.

Now you may be wondering what brought this on as my birthday was over three months ago and we haven't heard me getting all stressed out that the local convenience store guy has carded me for beer when I obviously don't look over 23 (just agree with me here). It was because my Dad's birthday was last week and if it's not my birthday that reminds me of my own constant spinning towards the hour where I live on top of a hill with a billion cats and hatred of kids, it's my parents' birthdays that make me tingle with the knowledge of my own mortality.

Now before we go any further -- my parents are very cool. Mom and Dad are happy with the way I run and deal with my life (though they wish I would find a nice catholic boy to settle down with), my site (though we don't like the assault rifle pictures), my conventions (though we really don't like the drinking aspect), and my costumes ("can't we wear something other than a thong and a smile?") and will help out with whatever I want to do (even though we did say that cons were just a phase back when I was 17). They are extremely supportive and have helped me out in the past with crap I would probably never have recovered from if they weren't around (even though I gotta stick out the "I told ya so" lecture in the process). I even have a feeling that I could call them up at any hour and have them help me move a body if I so needed without so much a question as to how that body got to my house and how it seemed to have four bullets in his head. I even bet mom would have a helpful hint as to how to get blood out of the carpet.

They also look younger than they are and I hope that I am blessed with that gene (I was rudely denied my mom's big tits gene for some reason and hope the young gene doesn't pass me over as well). Mom doesn't have to color her hair (most of her friends are really jealous of that). I even know that if mom were to keel over tomorrow, Dad would be able to woo any girl of his choice (without a mail order catalog) and still have them be able to be younger than any pair of shoes in my closet. (btw: we do have a deal that he won't marry any of these gold diggers if mom were to kick off - I don't want a stepmom that knows more hip terms than myself - and I also don't want mom to roll over in her grave).They are in better shape than most people in their twenties. Mom and Dad can both run people all over the tennis court and smile while they do it.

However, despite their whole "I'm older than you and can still kick your ass in any back alley" attitude they seems to have (and can make good on), there are mental aspects of my parents that make me shudder to think that I will someday fall into the same trap.

My dad has some quirks he acquired over the years that make me think of Mr. Wilson from the comic strip, Dennis the Menace. He is very political and if you don't agree with his views, step away from the room that he is in. Mom and I avoid turning on the TV or giving him the paper if we know that we will be in the same room with him for awhile. Anything can set him off on this tangent, like reading a certain article, or if any of us bring up any thing (like what's new with you, democrats are good, or asparagus) will get him going. He has become the grumpy old man that no one wants to be around sometimes, and if I were a kid and my football landed in his yard - I wouldn't be the one to go get it.

My mother isn't much better. I cringe when she talks about her Canasta group (even my dad can see this as an old folk card game). She likes to ask me if she looks younger than this person or that person and is completely confused when someone asks her if she wants the senior citizen discount (it's apparently better to stand your ground then to get the 10 percent discount at Shoney's). I did ween her off of wearing those holiday vests (you know the ones with all the Hallmark wording and crocheted hearts and Christmas Trees) to commemorate the season. Her clothing choices used to make me do a doubletake and remind her of her pals who look older than her who let Martha Stewart run their lives. At least she has some sense to pick out clothes that don't have elastic waistbands or have gone through the bedazzler machine as of late. However, she has talked about taking up golf (gawd, another clothing intervention is in the works).

Despite these newfound traits though (and I have brought them to their attention in an effort to reverse them), they told me that they don't feel old and since no one sees this weirdness besides me - they are able to convince others that they are young too. I just had to know how they did this. I want this special Pokemon power and it's high time they told me the secret. They laughed at me as they don't think they are old ("How dare you think we are old!")- but appeased me anyway.

I learned that if you are not in town for your birthday, people don't acknowledge that you had one. Usually no one will ask you your age anyway (unless you are obsessive like me) - so don't volunteer it.

Also, if you tell a fake age - and you are confident enough of it - anyone will believe you. Let me bring you back to a carpool I was in for school - I am nine and my mom is really 35. All of us in the car are talking of our mom's ages. My mom is driving.

kid 1: My mom is 35
kid 2: My mom is 31
kid 3: My mom is 39
Me: My mom is 19 (this is what my mom impressed upon me for years)
kid 4: My mom is 41

I know that it's easy to fool a kid, but no one skipped a beat -everyone bought that my mother was 19 even though their moms were older. No one even questioned the thought that this wasn't humanly possible (even in the south). My mom just smiled the whole trip to school. It wasn't till I was questioned at catholic school later did i get in trouble for mom's age by the teachers. But that's a different story.

I realize that I can't fix growing older. I realize that there is only so much I can do before I have to dig into my plastic surgery fund. However, I have a few role models that make me feel tons better. Wes is one of them. It's not cuz he is older than me (though that helps) - its cuz I feel like I can have the same mindset at his age that he has. Wes is my own personal Peter Pan. He is 33 and doesn't feel like he doesn't belong at a nite club or that his friends are too young for him. He makes you believe that he is ok where he is and screw you for thinking otherwise. I don't know anyone (including myself) that has thought otherwise. People are always surprised when they find out his age. I want people to do that with me.

At school, I am impressed that my classmates can't believe my age and tell me (and I have said this before, I know, but it makes me grin) that when they get old, they want to be just like me. It makes me frown at them ("How dare they think I am old!!"), but I know that they mean that in a good way (just agree with me here) and that I have retained my youthfulness not only in my looks but in my mindset.

So what did I learn while at the birthday dinner with the folks (besides some good canasta moments and how the Republicans are doing - not to mention mom and dad's latest ranking in the tennis tournament)? Don't take life seriously if you can help it, exercise, don't acknowledge your age and lie like hell.