I'm OLD!

I'm old.
MAN am I old.
When did this happen?
Hey - I'm 40. I'll scream it from the roof tops, I don't care.
However, when I'm working with kids who are all
young enough to BE my own, I FEEL old.
(Ok, I would have had one when I was in high school, but still)
I know you know I love my camp job. LOVE IT.
This year I'm in charge of a younger age group, no prob.,
but all the group leaders I'm working with are young too!
I know them, they're great kids, hard workers, respectful,
fun, we all get along great,
but they just reaffirm that I AM AN OLD LADY!
I'm AN OLD LADY WHO IS A MOM!
A MOM OLD LADY.
I am the one who has tissues in her bag, along
with bandaids, dental floss, a set of plastic vampire teeth,
a flashlight, and antacids.
I also have Xanax.
Last night at our camp meeting I was the one with the
fold up rain jacket in her bag so when the
torrential downpour started, I was dry.
HEY - I heard the weather report, I knew it was coming!
There are those working at camp that are my age or older.
We tend to gravitate toward each other when in large groups.
Is it because we have more in common or because we're
greatly out numbered by the girls in the teeny tiny shorts
and tank tops or the boys with their baseball caps on backwards?
Would I want to go back?
Would I want to have skin issues or boy issues or tend to keep
my ideas to myself because I was worried what the others would think of me?
HELL NO!
I like having clear skin.
I like that I know who I'm going home with each night.
I love the freedom of speaking my mind and
NOT CARING WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS!
I guess these gifts come with age.
If so, I'm proud to be OLD.