Birthday Exchange

I have no idea who these people are.

Hmm.  It has come to my attention that certain children I've personally birthed continue to get older.  What up with that?  Every year, there they go again with another birthday, another grab for attention.  Don't these children of mine understand that every time they get older, I get older, too?  While I want them to embrace the fun of turning, oh, let's pick a random number, 26,  don't they understand that this rude, unfeeling progression of time takes a toll on their favorite mother?  Can't they understand that if one of them turns 26, let's pick a random day, tomorrow, that means a week later, the SJG turns... oh dear God, how did that happen, 56?  How can I be turning 56 when I still feel 55? Why can't we employ a little movie magic, a switcheroo?  Let's make the son in question turn 56, and the mother turn 26.  Now that sounds like box office gold to me, much better than the crop of movies that came out in 2013.  No one gets stranded in space, no one gets held hostage. No one falls in love with a disembodied voice.  None of that nonsense. This is just good clean confusion on a personal level.  A mother and son share a nice birthday hug, and a freakish electrical charge occurs, which often happens in movies for no reason at all. A mother wakes up 26. A son wakes up 56. And hilarity ensues.  Maybe.  Come to think of it, I'm not so sure I want to be 26 again.  If I were 26 again, I wouldn't be a mom yet.  I'd have no one to drive crazy, other than myself, and hubby, and I've been doing that since we were 16.  Hmm.  Selfless gal that I am, I think I'll turn 56 next week, and let the eldest turn 26 tomorrow. That's just the kind of mother I am.  I give and I give and ask for nothing in return. Other than a nice birthday hug, no freaky electricity involved.