A sixty year old woman just gave birth to twins…voluntarily, not as part of some sick and twisted experiment. And then she stated that this event will redefine aging. I can only say, DEAR GOD, HAVE WE ALL LOST OUR MINDS! It’s bad enough that I can’t be my grandmother’s sixty when I feel I have done to much to earn that right. I can’t wear comfortable orthopedic black tied shoes or a shapeless black dress with an apron or spend a lot of time sitting in my chair regaling young people with tales of life in the dark ages before tires were round. No, I have to wear decent shoes and pants with waists and go to Curves and pretend that age has slowed me not a whit. I have to pretend that sixty is the new forty and that I’m happy with it. And now this lady wants sixty to be the new twenty. Now I have to feel guilty about not wanting to run after kids and change diapers into my seventies. Is she insane? She’ll be a seventy years old running after twins. TWINS! Sweet lord, take me. Take me now.