Two Zero

Once upon a time, I thought those two digits together were some type of magical age.

Boy was I wrong! When I was 20, I had a child in tow and a husband. I still have the husband, but now that child is 20 years and no longer the sweet, innocent, adorable, little two-year old she once was.

Don’t get me wrong, she is still a sweet kid young woman. It’s just that her interests are no longer wearing frilly dresses while climbing trees. She has progressed towards gaming, jewelry, books, and guys. Or rather a single particular guy. Not that I have a problem with said guy, I have a problem with her no longer being the child I can command and dictate rules and regulations to guide to the right path and she would listen.

Yeah, I wasn’t a dictator or tyrant. But I did have some strict rules – according to her as she compared every rule to those of her friends. Silly me, I have this wish to know who and where and why and how and what is going on in my children’s lives. I mean, weren’t we all taught the 5 W’s in elementary school for a reason?

Where are they going? When are they going and when will they return? Who are they going with and who are the parents? Why are they going? What are they will be doing once they get there? How are they getting there and/or back?

Okay, so back to the 20-year-old.

For her birthday, the family (and boy friend) had dinner at the Texas Roadhouse (seems to becoming a “birthday theme” around here). This lovely child-no-more did not want anyone to know it was her big day.

She made her two brothers promise on their Bibles that they would not so much as utter anything resembling a comment to the waitress/waiter that it was her birthday.

The silly kid forgot about her parents…sad, isn’t it? Not to worry though because while she couldn’t decide what to have for a drink (a non-alcoholic type, thanks!), her dear father turned to the waitress and said: “You’ll have to excuse her. This is her first day of being twenty.” To which the birthday girl immediately looked up, shocked that he said something. She even made “dad” into a two-syllable word as she flushed ever so slightly.

I reassured her that he did not tell the waitress it was her birthday. Do you see where this is going? Can you imagine the look of horror on her face as I spoke those “forbidden” words out loud? It was well worth it.

After dinner, the crew came to the table and did their little “Texas Roadhouse Birthday Wish” and brought out the famous saddle for the birthday person to pose on. And believe me, my husband made sure there were ample amounts of photos taken of the 20-year-old posing on this sad little saddle.

As we were heading back towards home, she did admit she had a great time, despite the worn little saddle she sat on. She was glad we made her day a little extra special.

I’m glad she is a 20-year-old, independent thinker and able to function on her own. But there is a part of me, ever so small, that misses the 2-year-old who was full of questions.

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