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Mid-Life Crisis

Lately I have felt much older than my actual age.  Life can sometimes be hard.  Stress takes it's toll.  Things happen.  Years pile on.

This is apparently not how El Hubbo has felt.  Living in a world where one is youthful and exuberant with rainbows and lollipops is what he prefers.

I may have remedied that with a big ol' dose of reality.

Our dinner conversation:

Me:  "Hey, the other day when I picked up the kids I saw you had a new welder delivered.  I saw the sub come out and try to figure out what he needed to do."

Him:  "What?  Oh yeah!  Who did you see?"

Me:  "It looked like one of the coaches.  Maybe an older or middle-aged coach?"

Him:  "Oh, yeah - no, he's not that old."

Me:  "Well at least middle-aged."

Him:  "No, he's about my age."

Me;  (Looking at him quizzically) "Well, you are aware you are in your late forties?  That is middle-aged."

Realization dawned on him.  His youth has fled.  The dew is no longer on the flower.  The sun is setting.

Ever sensitive to his emotional needs, I begin to laugh.  "Well, I guess you can start your Mid-Life Crisis now."

He frowned, lowered his head and began to ponder life as an old man.  Number One Son attempted to console him by patting him on the back.

El Hubbo looked at both of us and said, "I'm going to stab you both in the eye."

Ah, family love.  The Martinez way.

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