Watch Me Whip

Brian and I were at a wedding on the weekend and that song “watch me neigh neigh” came on.

So, because we’re excellent dancers we went up to neigh neigh. When we got closer to the dance floor we could see the younger group breakin’ it down with a routine.

A routine?! We didn’t want to look ridiculous so we tried it.

We whipped when they whipped, we neigh neighed when they neigh neighed, and we did something called a stanky leg.

It was that moment that my age really registered with me.

Soon I would be going to my friends children’s weddings, looking smart in a skirt with matching blazer, and taking my shoes off so I could dance better in my panty hose.

When did I get old?

Not ollllddd.

Like toddler old.

I’m on level child of the levels of oldness.

If you understand that sentence I just wrote you get bonus points.

I don’t even know why you’re neighing after you whip, whip.

10 years ago I would have known this.

I would have owned that dance.

But now…

I’m stocking up on panty hose.

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