Am I Getting Old? Or is it This?

I hate to even think these words aloud but...I think I'm getting old! :D
What caused this revelation? Only the fact that I got excessive amusement out of looking through some of our old Girls' Gazette newspapers and reminiscing over those "good old days." (which we are trying to resurrect) We have grown up so much since the beginning of that society! :) Or maybe I'm not getting old, per se. Wouldn't anybody laugh to see these?

If Anna Mae took her nose out of Hudson Taylor, her day wouldn't be "all history".

If Zillah wore her reading glasses, she wouldn't be plagued anymore by convenient headaches.

If Josie was paying attention to the inaugural speech she wouldn't notice what color Michelle Obama was wearing.

If Louisa wore half the clothes she has stuffed in her drawer, the public would be astonished at the extensiveness of her wardrobe.

(We call them "hints"...perhaps "jabs" would be a better term! :)

And then you have weather reports and news like this:

"Schools all over South-eastern Virginia closed for expected 4-6 inches of snow only to end the day with clear skies and bare ground! Children are outraged and parents are equally disappointed. According to meteorologist Evan Stuart, a fast-moving band of dry air blocked the snow from making ground-fall over our area, and instead, dumped it all on North-eastern N.C. We are expected to have a bone to pick with Alina White on Sunday."

Or our recitation announcements that leave you in stitches over the memory of what sorry poetry they were made of at times:

Miss Potter will now recite "My father owns the butcher shop"

"My Father owns the butcher shop,

My mother cuts the meat.

And I'm the little hot dog that goes running up the street."

I mean really...it's so funny! :D And then the ridiculous advertisements that were so much fun to write :

Madame Angelina Corella Bellinetine Magritte Lela Susannadora Maria Rachelle Donnamina De Montmorency has requested the presence of all young ladies in the town at a ball given in honor of her son, Wilhelm Angelo Carryl Isaac De Lowell Christoph Michal Lucius Napolean De Montmorency’s 18^th birthday, on November 21, 1881. This ball is given in hopes he might make a match.

(Always written in huge print so that all might "take notice") We had so much fun, and now I'm inspired all over again to keep up that traditions-- if they give me so much pleasure now, how much more will they make me laugh when I'm eighty years old? :) Maybe I'm not getting old...I just know a good time when I see one! :) ~Rachel