Some of us, in fact, ARE getting younger

We've spent the few weeks of the summer traveling. Which has been, you know, glorious.

On one of our travelabouts (word?), we met up with a bunch of extended family. Okay, we did that a few times. I have extended family galore.

So this particular group, I hadn't seen in eight years. They were in town, we were in town, that kind of thing. (That actually happened a couple times, so if you're Bob and you're reading this, as you pretend you do, it wasn't that dinner.) (That's to provoke you to comment.)**

Anyway, it was great to see everyone, etc. And everyone seemed about the same . . . except for my one cousin, who seemed distinctly younger.

And I don't mean in some kind of botoxed-enhanced kind of way, that I know of. It's just amazing what attitude can do for you.

This particular cousin, a woman I really like, has always been very Grownup. The kind of Grownup I just don't think I'm going to get to, apparently. For all our adult days so far, she's been a professional violinist, actually playing professionally at places like Carnegie Hall, on a regular basis.

She was also married to an Eastern European Professional Violinist, who was trying (and succeeded) to get on with a world-class orchestra. They were quite Mature.

(Kind of like when I would listen to my mother's cousin tell hilarious stories about his youth and the brave, fun, incredible things he and his boyhood pals would do. For years, as an 8-, 9-, and 10- year old, I would think, I can't wait . . . I can't waituntil I am old enough to have that much fun!

Eventually, I heard those stories when I was 14, or maybe 16, and I realized, huh. How old were those guys when they were sneaking into Elitch Gardens and riding for free all night and running out the back gate with the security guards hot on their tail? . . . And I realized, probably the age I am NOW. (Probably even younger.) Why am I not having that kind of fun? I'd wonder.

Okay, so I realize, these are two opposite examples - looking at people much younger than me and knowing I will never be that mature, and listening to people a fair amount older than I am, and knowing I was never so young.)

Anyway, the end of this story is, the cousin I first mentioned has gotten younger! Ditched the struggling artist life, living in a new city, on her way to a shiny new business degree - she was light and happy and literally a decade younger. I thought that was pretty cool.

Suffice it to say, it was great to see her. Plus she brought me chocolate. She so rocks.

(I have no great wrap-up to this story, other than, you know, ruminations on how some people are older than me but seem younger and others are younger but seem much more grownup (and now we're probably about even? Nope. She's younger again.) Feel free to add a wrap-up if you can think of one. The end.)

**At one of our other cousin-dinners - also very fun and full of amazing people, OF COURSE - my one cousin Bob claimed he reads Crib Ceiling. Um, okay. I'm doubting it, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. But the hilarious thing is, it went down the table. "Oh yeah, I read it too!" "Me too!" "Oh yeah, I read that." I am sure by the end of the table no one even knew what they were ascribing to. The Wall Street Journal? The Onion? You can be my cousin and not read Crib Ceiling. I'd just love you more, but it's not technically required.