I have officially been walking around on this earth for a quarter of a century. If I were a piece of clothing, I might already be vintage. Or at least retro. I celebrated it couch potato-grandma-style, by baking a pumpkin cake and petting cats. Just to reaffirm that I’m old now, you know? Anyway, here’s twenty five years for you.
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- Year 1. On a cloudy Thursday with lots of wind I entered the world, probably screaming because of the unsatisfying results of the local elections the day before. We took some family photos later that year, but I refused to cooperate and made funny faces.
- Year 2. I got accidentally – at least in their version of the story – locked in a car on a warm summer day together with the key in front of a drugstore. Being the capable one-year old I was, I couldn’t open the door by myself, so my dad had to come home from work to ‘save’ the baby.
- Year 3. I thought it would be super cool to play hide and seek with my mother, without telling her in advance. I hid so well that my mother thought I had run away/been kidnapped.
