Today I took my daughter to Texas Roadhouse to celebrate her 21st birthday. She was happy to be able to order herself a margarita with her meal. Her original birthday plans fell through, as Las Vegas is mostly shut down, and her boyfriend is currently in another state. Nonetheless, she enjoyed her birthday.

There’s something about ordering your own alcohol when you turn 2️⃣1️⃣. It’s like a rite of passage into full adulthood. The only thing you’re not allowed to do for yourself at this point is rent a car, for which you must be 25, for some reason. Is it the insurance liability? Is that when your insurance rates finally go down? That’s the rule, for whatever reason they decided on.

Another milestone birthday is the 18th. That’s when you become old enough to vote, serve in the military and be charged as an adult for any crime. In many states, that’s when you become old enough to buy lottery tickets. My oldest son just celebrated his 18th this year.

Once you pass 21, the next milestone I believe is 30, then 40. Once you hit 40, it’s pretty much downhill from there, unless you really want to celebrate the half-century mark at 50. I’m a little more than two years away from that, in 2022. I don’t really care one way or the other. I don’t celebrate my birthday; I don’t even make a production out of it. If someone happens to wish me a happy birthday, I’ll accept it and thank the person, but I don’t go out of my way to make it known to the world. If someone asks me, I’ll give them a rough estimate. For me, it’s just another day🤷‍♂️. Sometimes I’ll ask for my birthday off, simply because I don’t want the attention. The shy introvert in me would much rather sit along the sidelines, or against the wall in a social setting, than be in the middle of the crowd. Extroverts love and crave the attention. Introverts are much happier in a more intimate setting with relatively few people. I don’t remember ever having a birthday party, but it really doesn’t bother me. If I don’t get gifts, no big deal. If I don’t have a cake, it’s quite okay. For me, my birthday is like Christmas or most other holidays: nothing much to celebrate, just another day of the week.

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