I’m constantly reminded of the fact that I’m getting older, besides having to deal with un-gel-able grey hair and awkward croaks that escape my body (not my mouth) every time I get up. The biggest indication would be the fact that my kids are now at an age where they seem to grow an inch a day. It’s like living with X-men who has the genetic mutation of excessive growth. It’s hampering our plans of keeping their closets filled with decent clothes to wear, preventing them from running around naked. But it’s not working. Not even close.
It’s been another year in the life of Princess. She’s even more beautiful, which I didn’t think possible, blossoming into an exquisite young woman. She’s also getting a personality, which is much better than not having one. My existence is also a lot more challenging these days, as I now have two creatures under my roof who seems to have more estrogen than br…. Never mind. Continue reading