Sunday, November 23, 2014

Birthdays Are Getting Old (See What I Did There?)

Tomorrow is Precocious Daughter's 15th birthday.

It seems like only yesterday she was in my belly,

being blessed by a random Asian dude.
I'm a bit stunned at how quickly time has passed. She's not a little girl any more. She's a young woman, a high school freshman, somebody's *choke* girlfriend.

Did I say stunned? Angry. So. Angry.

Bad, bad time.

There's not much I can do about the passage of time, or the fact that I seem to have turned into her very own Picture of Dorian Gray, growing older and more decrepit every day while she becomes ever more stunning. Well, I can engage in denial. In fact, that seems like a pretty good option.

Victor Habbick/
Am I a MILF yet?
PDaughter has this week off from school. Tomorrow she's going to the movies with her *choke* boyfriend for her birthday. Like, you know, a date. Because she's 15 and dating. So she's going on a date. 

I'm going to babble incoherently for a while.

Hey! Did you know that original Beatles drummer Pete Best and serial killer Ted Bundy both share a birthday with my kid? Also, Lee Harvey Oswald and Freddy Mercury both died on her birthday. And, um, the first World Cup for the Blind began on the same date, in 2006.

OK, that last one made me laugh. Which is a terrible, terrible thing, laughing at blind people playing soccer. But I really, really needed a laugh. Sorry, blind soccer players. 

Usually it's only the refs who are blind,

Anyway. Fifteen. She no longer gets toys for her birthday, or has parties at the arcade. She doesn't even want a cake for her birthday; she wants a pie. That may be more a my-kid-is-weird thing than a growing-up thing. But all I can think of is the birthday when I worked my butt off to make and  decorate a Pokeball cake, and how big her smile was when she saw it. 

She finally got rid of the last of her Pokemon stuff just this year.

Well, except for the little Psyduck figurine that still sits on the passthrough between the kitchen and the family room. 

Maybe she's not changing as quickly as I think.

Happy Birthday, my beautiful Precocious Daughter. I can't think of anyone I'd rather grow old because of.


  1. Happy birthday, PD! And it does get a little easier. My own Dorkenstein will be a legal adult in May. Think of it as soon you'll be able to go to rock shows together :)

  2. PD's Godmother's husband prefers pie over cake, too. Must run in the family... (Happy Birthday, Godkid!)


  3. Are there even arcades anymore? If your daughter growing up doesn't make you feel old then the disappearance of things from your youth (arcades, video rental places, rotary phones, playgrounds where all the equipment is made from razor blades and broken glass) will.

    Happy birthday, PD. I always misread "Precocious" as "Precious". I'm sure she's both.


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