36, Day 3

I know now that I am officially old. It has nothing to do with all of this gray in my beard. It’s not about being thirty-six years old. It isn’t even because of the constant little aches and pains that constantly afflict some formerly fully normal part of my body. I know I am old because I genuinely get excited (I mean the kind of excited where you tell everyone you meet and even blog about it) over getting a great discount on meat at the grocery store. For the past few months the highlight of my week has been a trip to a certain grocery store on a certain day to peruse the meat department for “Reduced For Quick Sale” meats. Steaks and roasts for a third of the cost are what get me out of bed early these days. I especially get fired up when I find two eight ounce filet mignons for SIX BUCKS!!! This week marked my greatest score to date. Two eight ounce filets, three twelve ounce ribeyes and a twenty ounce (you read that correctly, TWENTY OUNCE!!!!) porterhouse. How much did I pay for this assorted bouquet of beef? Twenty-three dollars. I fed my family of four, along with my parents, a steak dinner for the price of one steak dinner in a restaurant, eighteen dollars. I know you’re wondering where the other five dollars went. I saved the porterhouse for myself and a special occasion. See, it’s official, I am old. Discounted meats get me more excited than, well, whatever it is that young whipper snappers get really excited about. The sweetest part (other than Peggy Sanders chocolate oatmeal cookies which she made me for my birthday) is that a night of conversation around the dinner table with my family wasn’t eighteen dollars, it was priceless.