Without doubt, I have finally attained “that certain age”. It occurs to us all and may embed itself at any age. A teenager, a twenty-something, a thirty-something or more; one moment nothing and then, without warning, “that certain age” assails us, moves in, leaves its boots in the hall and takes over all the wardrobe space! “That certain age” has come home. Manifesting itself in a variety of unmistakeable signs and symptoms, it has arrived.
I find myself no longer merely enraged by passing matters. Oh no, high dudgeon firmly wedged in place, I race headlong to challenge every hint, whiff or smidgeon of idiocy. Eyes fixed unswervingly on the cause, mallet in hand and ire at full throttle, I charge. Once, I was conciliatory, meek, compromising; “that certain age” has grasped, crushed and disposed of such hesitancy – without permission, apology or even a backward glance. I have been transformed.
Don’t abandon your detritus, inconvenience or discomfort others, or expect to live unchallenged; there is a growing army of outwardly sane-appearing, disguised with gentility, rapidly enraged chameleons on the march. “That certain age” has come with its reminders that life can and should be lived positively, productively and powerfully – and it has taken over!
