Age 3, same gumboots
Age 4, different pair of gumboots. Navy, with a red sole. I loved those gumboots. (I obviously had a burr in my sock, hence one boot on, one boot off. Happens, when you live on a farm.)
Age 4; me and my cat, Pippa
18! At last. I can drink, buy alcohol and cigarettes, vote, go clubbing, watch R rated movies, get my green P plates, marry without consent, gamble, be tried in a court of law as an adult, hire from Video Ezy and - as Sara pointed out - prostitute myself (oh, the things I have to look forward to!); no more underage!
Oddly enough though, 18 doesn't feel that old, compared to a lot of people in college, etc, who are 19, 20, 21...and a good friend of mine, a post grad student, who's 24.
18; it's the age at which we come bear whole new responsibilities that we gleefully shirk in our celebration of newly acquired rights.
I look forward to it!
(Details about the celebrations to come...)
Just a (legal!) girl