In a few weeks I’ll turn 54, and my birthday wish list bears no resemblance to the lists of my youth:

• Laser skin tag removal to get rid of those two new bumps on my lip. They draw attention to the mustache;
• More energy to keep up with my puppy, my chores, and my channel surfing;
• Full range of motion in my shoulders, in case I ever get arrested, cuffed and stuffed. (Yes, I actually worry about that.);
• Ability to turn off my turn signal after making a lane change;
• My old metabolism, so I won’t gain weight just looking at the birthday cake;
• Eyes that will stop deteriorating long enough so I can finish making the payments on my existing reading glasses;
• Cognitive ability to remember where I parked my car without taking two laps around the parking lot;
• The ability to sleep through the night, preferably without drooling;
• An anti-perspirant holster so I’ll always be prepared for hot flashes;
• A new bra: size extra long;

I’d like to always remember what the years have given me instead of worrying about what they’re taking away. I’m still working on it.