Over the weekend I was speaking to someone on the phone who followed up wishing me a happy birthday with a joke about how I am now older than dirt.
I quipped back, "Yeah, finally. Now I can embrace being a curmudgeon and tell that young dirt to get off my lawn." And I even shook my fist at nothing in particular to accentuate the moment even though the person on the other end would have no way of seeing. That's how committed I was.
And an obvious indication of how committed I need to be.
With age may come wisdom, but clearly I haven't gained enough to refrain from admitting such groaners to the internet-reading public.