Today I was having a convo with my little bro Joey. If you don't know Joey, you're missing out. Anyway, it went a little something like this:
Me: Hey Joe Bear! Guess what?! You're almost 17! CRAZY! You're getting so big. I hate it.
Joey: Jill. I'm still in high school. I'm not old.
Me: Well Joey, you're gonna be 18 in like a year! What the H!
Joey: Ha, I know! I can't wait.
Me: Do you know how old I am?
Joey: hmmm...I forgot.
Me: I'm 24. Gross. I'm gonna be 25 in September.
Joey: Ew, you're almost 30! You'll be a freak!
Me: Joey, don't be mean! (pretending to cry)
Joey: Well...Jill, get real.
What the hell? My little brother thinks I'm old. Not just getting older, but old. Like old maid status. I think I'm gonna die. I mean, I know I'm gettin' to the "old maid" status in Utah world but that's not a problem for me. I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is the fact that I only have five years until I'm actually "old". EEK!
Good thing I love Joey...a lot. Otherwise he might have been punched in the face or something.
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