"At the Age of 22"

The other night when we were hanging out at my parents' house for Father's Day, I was in the laundry room doing a few loads. (Yes, I sometimes still take my laundry home. Don't act like you don't.) Matt was in my old bedroom, (not really sure why). As I was loading the darks into the washer, I heard him call to me, "Hey Love, I'm sorry we don't live in 4 bedroom, 3 bathroom house."

Okay, really? Where the heck did that come from? My parents live in a 4 bedroom house, but there are only 2 bathrooms. That's the closest I could come to why he might've said that. But really, I had no clue.

"Umm...Love? What are you talking about?"

He walks into the laundry room and hands me an old beaten up journal with my handwriting from when I was in 6th grade. Without even really examining the contents of the journal, my mind immediately begins to race with what other nonsense (think 6th grade, people! did any of us really make any sense at that age?) could possibly be found in that treasure chest of a notebook.

I read the journal entry he was referring to entitled, "At the Age of 22." (Which, if I remember correctly, was a response to the prompt, "Where will you be in 10 years?" So, let's just keep in mind while reading this that I was 12.) Okay.

Here goes nothing:

At the Age of 22
"When I am 22, I will be married, but still in collage. I will be a good student in every subject. I will have very close friends who love and care for me. My mom will be 50 and my dad will be 52. My husband will be 25 and already graduated from collage. He will have a very, very successful business. We will both live in a 4 bedroom, 3 bathroom house. It will be close to the collage so I don't have to use that much gas from my forrest green suburban. My life will be great."

Please. Laugh if you will. Shoot, I'm still laughing.

But just take note that I called it. "My life will be great." And I personally, don't think it could get any greater.