My husband, once a long-haired, t-shirt sporting, torn-jeans enthusiast is now a den leader for the cub scouts. As I took this picture last week, I couldn't help but wonder who was growing up more quickly, my son or my husband.
As if that weren't enough . . . I am now the treasurer of this humble little club. Me.
Do you think they realize I haven't balanced a checkbook in years? (One of the many perks of marrying an accountant type,.)
So that's it. It's official. No more "edgy young adults." Well, okay, "young adult" has been off my description list for a while now. But edgy? Oh, okay, edgy, too.
That's it. We're suburban.
We may as well get a dog and a mini-van and call it a day.
Oh right. Dog is six years old.
Van is . . . older.
Think there are any Thirty Something reruns on anywhere?