Choosing our Hill

As WordPress continues to recycle old prompts, I pulled another prompt from The Coffee Monsterz Co to respond to today

Do you think you are a petty person?

I don’t think that I’m a petty person. In fact, I like to think that I try to not sweat the small stuff. However, I’m sure that I can be just as petty as the next person, but I usually choose not to be.

I think some of that comes with age. We learn patience as we get older and become wiser. Most of us do anyway. I think after a while, we pick and choose our battles; deciding what is and what is not worth wasting our time and energy on.

Of course, this idea of wisdom coming through age and experience isn’t always true. At least, once we hit a certain age, we regress – as I am seeing these days with Mother. The whole second childhood thing is absolutely real. Children really do become the parents; and parents become the children.

There are times that I do still resort to being what some may consider petty. I suppose we all do. There are certain things in life which we are still worth not only fighting for, but getting very nitpicky about. We all have our proverbial hills that we choose to die on.

To clarify, fighting for something that is important to you does not make you petty. However, it may be seen by outsiders as being petty. putting us, ruining someone’s stages because my day has been ruined as well, I’m beyond that. It’s just a waste of energy at the stage of my life

Another reminder that I’m old

It’s ironic this topic about being petty comes up today. But it’s probably only natural that I find a way to base my answer on age. Advancing in age has been on my mind quite a lot the last few days. There is a minor-league baseball team that’s about 2 1/2 hours from my house, the West Michigan wake ups. They were an affiliate of the Detroit Tigers so naturally I follow them. I saw an ad for them on social media yesterday for “silver slugger“. They’re doing a promotion For half price tickets for “senior citizens”. The Whitecaps definition of a senior citizen is age of 50 and older. Fifty. Allow yourself to process it for a moment:

According to the parameters set forth by the West Michigan Whitecaps, I am officially a senior citizen

Woah indeed, Neo…

Because, you know, the lines on my face, or seeing my kid graduate from high school; or waking up sore, or realizing that I need extra time to stretch out before i work out wasn’t enough of a reminder of my age. Apparently, now I need validation of that from local businesses. I’m still at a point in my life or I get offended when I’m not carded for an alcohol purchase.

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