I finally got around to watching last week’s Glee yesterday. Was I the only one who yelled at the screen when the OB identified the sex of a ten-week-old fetus on an ultrasound? NO CAN DO, Glee writers. Reality fail.
In other television news, I also finally watched the Top 4 episode of Canadian Dance Show. I found myself thinking that Vincent was kind of cute. Hot, even, as the kids these days like to say.
Then he went and announced that he is twenty years old.
OH MY GOD.
That’s just barely more than HALF MY AGE.
That’s closer in age to my children than to me.
I couldn’t revel in the horror for too long, however, because I had to fire up the walker and rush out for the early bird specials at Swiss Chalet.