27

Here's to turning 27.

And datin' a younger man.

For two days that is.

Until he turns 27.

But, for now, he's a younger man.

This sounds much better than I'm an older woman.

Yes, in my opinion, I've reached the age where this is not nice to say.

So, for now, he's a younger man.

A younger man who treated me to Mexican dinin' with the ones who know me best.

After a day at the salon getting my hair did.

He sure knows the way to my heart.

Is it more through the pampering or the chips and salsa?

I'll never tell.

Oh, 27.

The wrinkles and lines.

The confidence and wisdom.

Knowin' I've got a ways to go.

So, feeling I'm like I'm 12.

Countin' down to 30.

Then a lifetime of a learnin' and a growin' after that.

Hmm.. more growin' up than growin' out, I hope.

And, I guess chips and salsa and strawberry cake don't so much help that ambition.

But, hey.

It's all in the name of celebratin' 27.