I tried last night to come up with wise words on turning 40.  But word retrieval issues kept getting in my way.

Sage advice from a 40 year old:  Do not play Taboo during your birthday weekend.  Just skip it, politely decline or scream, “NO FUCKING WAY” at the top of your lungs.  Seriously.

You see, I was once a fairly competitive gamer.  At least in my own head.  My husband and I were in a regular game group, before kids, and loved it.  I may have developed a bit of a reputation as being a little too competitive.  But I just called it being a WINNER.  So it was with a touch of this former glory that I approached the game last weekend.  Let’s just say I blew out the candles on humble pie for my birthday.  I completely and utterly stunk.  I believe the jewel on my birthday crown was when I had the word, Ballistic, and I said, “He went BLANK.” over and over until that little sand timer mercifully played me off like keyboard cat.

edit to add, YOU MUST WATCH THIS.  If ever I am down, this never fails to bring the mirth.

Yeah, so I am happy with 40.  Not freaked out about the number.  Just a little freaked out that I need to shop at the large print section of the bookstore, that my butt needs it’s own pull behind wheeled trolley, and that I appear to be just a shadow of my former Gamer self.  But I still challenge anyone to beat me at AIR HOCKEY.  I reign SUPREME.