Liz Marsh
Liz Marsh

I don't know exactly when the conversation turned from boys and brunch. It would be easy to pinpoint it as the moment my niece was born, but part of me thinks that it happened way before that.

My sister, best friend and I thoroughly enjoyed our 20s — there were parties, so many parties, nights out, drunken brunches, road trips, more parties and boys. Then of course there was giggling about boys over drunken brunches, our favorite activity.

I've always thought the end of our youth was one specific St. Patrick's Day. We got up early to go to the parade, continued on drinking with our favorite bagpipe band, then went home to change before a house party. When we got home, we made the mistake of lying down on my bed, ostensibly to "talk about our costumes." We never made it to the party. I woke up five hours later, and I was afraid they might rally and make me go to the party, so I just laid back down quietly and we all slept until noon the next day.

That day was telling. We were getting older. But I'm not sure there's anything that has made me feel like a different person from my 20-year-old self more than the conversation I had with my sister the other day. You truly know that you are no longer focused on your own youth when you have a critical discussion of Winnie the Pooh.

Sister: I don't really like Pooh.

Me: No one DOESN'T like Pooh. He's a lovable bear who frolicks around a forest with his other animal friends. Seriously, what's not to like?

Sister: Well first of all, I don't think he's a very good friend. He always seems like he's a good friend, like he cares, but then he'll be on the way to help someone and he'll get distracted by honey. He's actually very selfish.


Me: What about Eeyore?

Sister: Don't even get me started on Eeyore.

Me: What about Kanga and Little Roo?

Sister: Well, Kanga is a total helicopter mother. I mean, Little Roo is not that little. He can walk. Like, it's time to stop carrying your kid around in your pouch.

Me: You've thought a lot about this.

Sister: I do like Tigger, though. At least I know where I stand with Tigger. Tigger looks out for No. 1, and he lets you know that up front.

Me: OK. Well, this has been very illuminating. I gotta go now.

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