This is me.
This is me with a painful look of chaperone-anxiety on my face at the dance last night.
I am older this morning.
I am going to be 27 next month and that realization was confirmed last night as I seperated make out sessions, hands heading down southern regions, & chased around boys who "just want to go sit on the bus, man. I don't like the way you are comin' at me, yo".
But of course I had fun. I even learned how to do the jerk (& no, I am not referencing the Steven Martin classic). Andrew once again saved me at a work event by being an all star chaperone. We have both decided that if we have a daughter that she can never grow up and if we have a son he will not be allowed 2 feet from a female at all times.
I slightly envied the innocence of the kids last night, dancing around like maniacs to every Lady GaGa song they could listen to, but then I thought, no way. I am soooo happy that I have already lived that part of life---oozing teenage hormones. No thank you. I'll take my baby raging woman hormones any day.