Grumpy
Image Courtesy of Pixabay

Today I am feeling decidedly middle-aged! It is not something that I really want to admit (especially to myself), but I am a whisker away from the half-century milestone. I can feel it’s malevolence reaching out to me, trying to drag me over to the ‘other side’ where youth is  a forgotten memory, and old age starts to creep into every pore, ready to assert its authority over my still-protesting mind and body…..

My husband, Mr Grump, has already metamorphosed into the moany, moody old git that comes with age (if you let it, and Mr Grump embraced it wholeheartedly). Oh, how he loves to complain! Mind you,  there is something to be said for it at times,(see, I knew I was getting old)!   We once had vouchers for a free meal as he had complained bitterly about the appalling service we had received, which was matched by the atrocious food, at a local restaurant chain. Having said that, we were  a little hesitant to use them in case there was a repeat performance!

Apart from the obvious wrinkles and middle-aged spread,(fair enough not everyone has middle-aged spread, but it has decided it wants to attach itself to me, and it’s a bugger to get rid of), I find that I am (God forbid), also  starting to get a bit crabby. Where has the laid back, easy-going person that I once was gone? Why has this moody, snappy, person invaded my body and  started influencing my mind? I know I am not the best of drivers, but why does everyone else on the road have to be such an idiot? People cutting you up or driving like maniacs, I have even been known to mutter the odd ” Dick head” or worse under my breath (I’m too much of a wimp to yell it directly at someone).

I was always so quiet and shy, and although I still don’t like to draw attention to myself much, I have marched over to a neighbour’s house complaining about some misdemeanour their offspring have done to my daughter (Miss Hap), only to be utterly shown up when it transpired that she had started it!

You would have thought that having an 11-year-old daughter would keep me young, but  no! I hate it when she plays her music too loud, (now I am even turning into my mother), I also don’t understand half of what she is saying with all the ‘street talk’ or slang. or whatever it is they speak!

I find myself reminiscing about ‘when I was young’ (that’s it, I am beyond hope now) and how much better everything was back then. It’s funny how memories become distorted over the years, I’m sure I wasn’t this perfect, well-behaved little angel that my memory portrays me as being!

I am going to try to fight this middle-aged monster that wants to consume me. I’m sure I could still do a cart-wheel (if there is a large enough space and an ambulance on standby)… I still scrub up reasonably well (if I have a good few hours free and a ton of Polyfilla handy), and as for being grumpy, (well Mr Grump has got the monopoly on that, and there is no way I could compete with him), it is only because other people don’t know how to drive/behave/etc.. nothing to do with me!