this is what happens when people start to turn 40

So my cousin Beth invited me to come up to Napa to celebrate her 40th birthday with her.
Beth and I have grown up together. We played dolls together. We fought each other.
(Beth is very strong...even now that she is 5' and I am 5' 8" she could take me down.)
We played Barbies together. We started liking boys at the same time.
Not the same ones, of course, that would violate the cousin code.
We went to college together.
We got married within years of each other.
We gave birth to our first baby within months of each other.
And this year we will both turn 40. And we are embracing it.
Because the only other option to turning 40 is dying and we are putting that off for a while if it is up to us.
Her husband, my cousin Tim, sent us for a weekend at a spa resort.
Very shi shi. Now you should know Beth and I are not really shi shi on our own.
But after this weekend have decided that we would like to be shi shi from here on out.
We got facials. We got pedicures. We ate fancy food. We relaxed. We talked without interruption. We saw a movie. We saw a show.
We stayed at a place where anytime we would say, "Thank you",
the servers would say, "It's my pleasure."
I have decided that from here on out my children need to say that to me.
("Go clean your room!" "Yes, Mother, it's my pleasure." It has a lovely ring to it.)
I phoned home to Scott to tell him I was fancy now and I need to be kept in the manner to which I am accustomed. I wanted to give him time to prepare for the new me.
But mostly, Beth and I laughed. Almost the entire weekend. Laughing and more laughing.
When we embarrassed ourselves with the bellhop. When I fell off my bike trying to park it and hooked my purse on the handlebars, flinging myself to the ground. Racing frantically to San Francisco to catch a viewing of Wicked with Jenny and Aunt Neva.
And especially when we gave ourselves a mud mask the last night at the resort.
(Scott and Tim are scarred by these pictures and have to look away but I thought you might need a laugh.)

So in 9 months it's my turn. I'm not sure how we will celebrate it.
But I am sure there will be laughing involved. And possibly some fancy food.
And Beth will be along for the ride. Not on a bicycle this time.
It doesn't get any better than time spent laughing with cousins and a little deep cleansing of the face.