You're already 40, your bones ache a little more
Your joints crack when you go to stand up
You’re 40, menu writing seems smaller than acceptable
And a dozen cheater glasses have found their way around the house and your car
You're 40, your hair has more grey -and your face has a few more lines.
You're 40, a late night no longer means drinking till 3; it usually means one of the kids is sick.
You’re 40, a pain in the neck or ass isn't just a saying anymore, it's an actual ailment.
You're 40, days have become longer and years much shorter.
You're 40, you remember when TV's only had 13 channels and only rich kids had remotes
You're 40, you remember when there was no such thing as texting and reality TV
You're 40, cars didn't drive themselves and you had to stop and ask for directions from an actual person.
You're 40, you remember when phones had cords and Berlin still had a wall.
You're 40, when playing with your friends meant going outside and not "gaming" with them from home.
You're 40, when someone asked if you were on-line, we were actually standing in a line.
You're 40, a tablet or note was a yellow pad or a composition note book.
You're 40, the little things don't sting as much and laughter lines are enjoyed
You're 40, you're more confident and comfortable with who you are.
You're 40, you're more beautiful than ever, and your smile still brightens any room.
You're 40, you still steal my heart like the first time I saw you 21 years ago,
and your laugh is still contagious to anyone around you.
You're 40, and I love and look at you like we are 19 again.
© Frank Orobello