Growing up I was often told that I was very mature for my age, to the point that I was once mistaken for being a freshman in collage when I was eleven. Now that I’m in my thirties, popular culture says that I should regret not embracing the magic of childhood and start denying my age. As far as telling people my age goes I’ve always preferred to defy rather than deny the number of years under my belt. As for the loss of the magic of child hood… Who says I lost it? Being an adult means getting to do all the things kids aren’t allowed to do as well as what they can. So with that in mind I’d love to go with my husband to Disneyland before I’m thirty five.
Because if Darth Vader can have a blast than so can we.
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