29 going on 5
I’m five.
I’m sitting on the living room floor munching on Cheerios, watching Big Bird on PBS, and picking a new hole in my socks – hand-me-downs from my older brother. Mom tells me I need to pay close attention to the TV.
“PBS would like to thank Kelsey Timmerman,” a voice (not Big Bird’s) says.
That’s me. I’m so excited. I smile and dance around the living room wondering if my friends heard that.
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I’m 29.
I’m driving home from work listening to All Things Considered on NPR. During a break, I’m guilted into donating to the station that I listen to regularly.
“IPR would like to give a big thanks to Kelsey Timmerman,” a voice (not Big Bird’s or Michelle Norris’s) says.
That’s me. I try to play it cool like people read my name on the radio all the time. But I can’t fight the smile. It’s big and goofy and the other drivers wonder exactly what I’m up to.
I’m 29 going on five.