Those 70ish Girls

As my husband and I get older, we think about our birthdays. How should we celebrate? Will this be our last one? Will we get to celebrate with our family and friends? Should we do something special, because we don’t have many more chances to enjoy our time here on the planet?

I’m all for a big splurge. I want to go on a trip somewhere exotic or unique. Some place I’ve never been before. Who knows at my age if I will ever get to go on my dream trip? We usually go out for lunch or dinner at a snazzy restaurant or to eat our favorite cuisine to celebrate senior birthdays. This year I want to try something bigger and better and funner.

This year for my birthday, I told my husband I want to visit Charleston and Savannah to tour the historic homes, museums and Civil War sites. I’ve always wanted to go there. I went ahead and looked into arrangements for such a trip to celebrate being 70ish. My hygienist and friend of 25 years even gave me the name of her daughter’s great travel agency. I called and talked to a travel agent there who had me flying high on ideas and wondrous destinations in the South! He painted a visual canvas of fascinating places to see with stays at old remodeled 1850’s style inns and romantic southern foods at lavish intimate dinners overlooking lush gardens with trees covered in Spanish moss. I was enthralled. I was ready.

The tour trip was called Southern Charms but there was nothing charming about the cost of a week long trip to Charleston and Savannah in the fall. My heart and my hopes sunk. My husband said he didn’t want to go on any tours. He also said it’s too expensive. Maybe I will go alone. It costs half as much that way.

Then later as we discussed what else to do for my special birthday, one like no other, he may have been fooling around, just joking, which he does tongue in cheek quite successfully. I was cooking something at the stove. He said, “I’ll take you out to dinner for your birthday- first to Burger King then to Dairy Queen for dessert.”

I just stared at him a minute.

I hope he wasn’t too badly injured by the flying frying pan.