Even though she lied to both me and The One Who Knows Everything about how old she was turning today (because truly, doesn’t that make The One Who Knows Everything look bad?), and even though I’m tempted to continue to spread that lie just to punish her, I won’t.
But I’m also not dedicating the heartfelt missive I’d composed on the benefits of turning 40. Because Super K? You’re not in the club yet. And I might have to delay your membership to the club for a year, as a penalty for trying to join early.
Having said that, I’ll still have cookies for you at work tonight. Because you still rock, even at the ripe old age of *gasp* 36.
(Thanks for having your birthday fall in November and giving me a post on this, the penultimate day of NaBloPoMo. Also, thanks for giving me a reason to use the word “penultimate,” which would make my former English professor proud, if he actually read my blog.)