Turning Ten at Forty

I was born on February 29, which means I only get a real birthday every four years. This year, I turned forty. Technically, it was my tenth birthday.

My friends took this very seriously. They threw me a ten-year-old's birthday party. There was a bounce house in my sister's backyard. There were party hats, a piñata, a cake shaped like a unicorn, pin the tail on the donkey and goody bags with bubbles, stickers and those little sticky hands that you throw at the wall.

Thirty adults came in party hats. We played musical chairs. My dentist friend took it so seriously she knocked over a lamp. We ate pizza and drank juice boxes through bendy straws.

At the end, they sang "Happy Birthday" and I blew out ten candles. Then my best friend handed me a card that said, "Happy 10th! See you at your Sweet Sixteen." I can't wait. It's only twenty-four years away.