I`m 30. That`s right, 30.
So, in amongst all all these teenagers, away from home for the first time, is little old me.
It`s been fun. The dance workshops. The Tango! The stretching. The breathing. The rolling around on the floor. It`s all good.
There have been a few interesting age related comments made by my fellow students: in the first I foolishly ask one how old she is. 18 is her reply. She adds, I won`t be rude and ask how old you are.
Bloody Hell! I`M ONLY 30 is what the voice inside my head screams.
The second comment comes from ANOTHER 18 year old who`s getting a lift in my car.
There is a very pleasant Sting CD playing.
Listening to one of the songs, she asks if this is when he was still with The Police.
With vigorous nods to indicate I think that indeed it is.
It`s one of my Mum`s favourite songs she earnestly replies.
Enough said, I think.
