I turned 50 today.
Yabba dabba dooooooooo!
Seriously though, turning 20, 30 or 40 never bothered me in the slightest. Turning 25 did because once you hit 25, you can't use the excuse of youthful exuberance any more for dumb mistakes. You're also a quarter of a century old which sounds even worse. Now that I'm a half-century old, it means I'm at least half-way towards the end and I'm definitely no longer a kid.
But everything was going OK until I looked at the newspaper online and found out that another relative had died. I guess that's going to keep happening with increasing familiarity now that I'm firmly in the middle of middle age.
Fortunately, there's a small birthday cake in the fridge and my friend gave me the prettiest Royal Albert teacup (Lovelace) and a package of Stash's Chocolate Mint Oolong. I'll raise a toast this evening, to my favorite great uncle and to whatever the future may bring.