martes, agosto 19, 2014

Number Three . . . Maybe

In my series on the seeing the bright side of getting older, I thought of a third benefit today as I sat reading about a teenager in love.  O, the agony, misery, (and hilarity . . .  for others) of being a teenager in love.  Well enough do I remember the sheer humiliation of having more than 2 strands of hair out of place.  I recall the absolute mortification of pronouncing a word incorrectly, and the certainty that my beau would immediately take me for being completely incompetent and rid himself of me at the first opportunity.  Since I was older (19) when Mr.M and I started dating and talking about marriage, I had left those childish ways behind.  As Judy Garland says, I was a "woman of the world."  As we age, we come to the realization that everybody makes mistakes; and we (those of us who are pleasant company, if I do say so myself) learn to laugh at ourselves.  Life experience shows us we are pretty good at some things, and really bad at others.  The act of living teaches us how much we learn through the act of living.

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