A few nights ago, Eric and I sat down to eat dinner after putting our girls to bed. We do this every now and again, feed them when they're hungry, before Eric gets home from work, stifling our
hanger hunger until 9 or so, and sit together and enjoy an overcooked, usually stale meal together. We also usually drink adult things so WIN. Anyway, this past week, over a bowl of chicken bloated-noodle soup, we were talking, catching up over our week's events, how our life has changed so much recently, and Eric said something along the lines of, "I remember you telling me a long time ago how much you hate change." "Interesting," I said. "I may have said that, but I don't think I meant it. I think my younger self thought that, but what she really hated was a lack of control. I love change. I love how much my life has changed over the last four years, I loved my old job and how many different things I got to see and do because the scenery was always changing." "That makes sense," Eric said back to me, with a nod and a sip of Crop Circle Wheat.
Dang, I thought, nodding and sipping my Ale Asylum back,
I love getting older and wiser.