100 degrees, 100 years old, same diff.

So guess! what the 8-year old boy said when the grumpy chick at the zoo told him to stop kicking his cohorts.

"You're not the boss of us."

And in his beady little miscreant eyes I saw reflected the stodgy old crone I have worked so hard to become in all her glory, straggly hair streaming proudly in the wind. I thought about shaking my cane and taking a victory lap around the entrance to the zoo, but it was wayyy too nice a day, so I shuffled off to the public transit I rode in on. Toby tried to hide under his hat but later on he helped me open the Metamucil, so I guess he's recovered from the shame.