The signs of aging

As I round the corner and enter the home stretch to the big 4-0 (yes I know I am a drama queen and I am also aware I have 2 1/2 years left but bear with me!) I have noticed several signs of the aging process.  Most of them are managable and easily remedied.

For example, I had to break down and start coloring my hair this past year to cover up all the grays.  I swear though that now that I have started to color my hair it is REALLY pissed off and decidedly accelerating the process of making me into that white-haired psycho I've always dreamed of being.  Honestly, when my roots start showing I notice about 50% more gray than the last time I colored.

Another wonderful indicator that I'm gettin' up there are those fun little hairs on my chinny chin chin.  Again, an easy fix with a tweezer, though I am starting to consider having them lasered.  It used to be a once in awhile plucking event, but it seems like they grow back fast and furious and are starting to bring friends.  So it's either they get zapped or I borrow Mark's razor.  You do the math.

Also, besides the chin plucking, now I am growing these totally awesome sideburns down my cheeks.  Again, a good pair of tweezers and a decent magnetic mirror really do the trick.  Eventually though I just won't be able to keep up and I might just shape them into lambchops.  Stylish, don't you think?

My favorite thing about getting older, as if the other items on the list aren't awesome enough, is that this year I was finally prescribed bifocals.  Yep, I am THAT blind that not only is it difficult to read road signs but I am unable to properly decipher the alcohol percent by volume on the wine labels at Trader Joes without a pair of nerd goggles.

But this morning in the shower tops my list of the greatest things to ever happen in the process of becoming an old fart.  And speaking of farts, here's the scoop:  I felt the urge to toot, mostly because I'd had a cup of coffee and you know it's just a warning sign of things to come.  So I went ahead and let-er-rip and you know what happened?  NO, silly, I didn't SHART (shit-fart combo if you don't know what a shart is), I PEED a little. 

When the hell did I start losing control of my fricken bladder?  Anyone know where to get coupons for those little panty liners for impromptu peeing?  I gotta get me some.  And this one bothers me most of all as it cannot be cured with tweezers, hair dye or bifocals.  There's no pill to fix your peepee.  You just gotta wear Depends, or my personal favorite "Oops, I Crapped My Pants" brand undergarments.  (thanks SNL, you're the best!)