90 is the new 70 or something

So we were invited to Tante Hermi’s 90th birthday party and I joked, Oh this is gonna be LIT but the joke was on me because it was.
At least relatively lit. Lit-er than I expected.
Plenty lit for me.
It was held in a Serb restaurant in Vienna, for one thing, so before the evening was too far along even the vegetarians were eating meat, the red wine was very heavy and good and eventually there was a lot of schnapps. Tante Hermi apparently invited only charming, fun relatives and when the band (guitar, bass, accordion, violin) showed up she was one of the first to start dancing and one of the last to stop.
I was a designated driver so I stayed rather sober.
And I couldn’t understand much because tinnitus etc.
But I still enjoyed myself and watching Tante Hermi get down *really* gave me a more positive view of getting old.

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