I'm just a few crinkled laugh lines away from being an old bag.
I don't feel old. I guess I'm not actually OLD, but I'm no spring chicken that's for sure. Mentally I feel like I'm 20 something. Most times I act about that old, if that old, but my teeter totter has definitely tipped and I've got my claws sunken deep into the center trying to hold on. It's happening..I'm getting old.
I was talking to one of my customers on the phone the other day, discussing my care free "single days". The days when I used to go down to Treasure Island in Florida and hang out at this really cool outside bar, Gators, and watch the people bungee jump from the crane that was owned by the professional wrestlers, the Bushwackers. Then I realized -- holy CRAP - that was the late 80's early 90's. More than 20 years ago. Eek. Is the WWF even a thing anymore? Is bungee jumping??
The old bag mentality has most recently kicked in while my husband and I were out for dinner at the local bar/restaurant. I made friends with the waiter (but of course you did, Jenn) and in conversation he mentioned that he was 21. I very promptly uttered, "Oh m'gosh...I could totally be your mommy." My husband got a total kick out of this - because as some of you know - I'd talk to a rock and make friends with that rock if it gave me 5 minutes. I also don't pick up on the social cues while I'm talking to these people. I completely miss that they're probably thinking "man, when will this old bag shut her pie hole." I just keep rambling on and on - being my silly ol' self. They're all really polite. Their mommies are probably my friends & raised them well because ya know...
I could totally be their mommy.
It hit me again when we got new neighbors. They're the cutest little couple... 23 and 25 (if that, I think). I could be their mommy. We considered inviting them to one of our "neighborly get togethers" on our corner of the block - but then we wondered....would we scare them? Would they think the old bags have totally lost their marbles... Start calling their friends to say "HEY... There's this house across the street. Yeah, the people still live there but they're OLDDDDDDDDD (and off their rockers)....they're sure to retire and move (or die) soon. Come take a look."
Seriously.... I could be their mommy. One of the "old folks" on the block. Me? Wait, what?
I am NOT the hip cool 20/30 (and almost not even 40) something anymore. I don't blend. I am NOT the one "they" think of as fun to hang out with, I'm the one who could be their mommy. Heck...I could even be a grandma... When one of my son's friends was over our house, I had on Led Zeppelin. L.E.D. Z.E.P.P.E.L.I.N. I went to change it and my son's friend said, it's OK, Mrs. C.... I love the oldies. Ahhhhhhhh T.H.E. O.L.D.I.E.S. Led Zeppelin??
I already knew I could be his mommy.
I was cool with the age thing - until this last birthday. 45 didn't bother me, 46 didn't bother me, 47 didn't bother me (much) but 48? Forty eight represents the moment that the teeter totter tipped hard and fast and has sent me rolling furiously toward the next big 0.
Not cool. I'm not even sort of close to 40 anymore. Heck - if you were to round off the number mathematically - it wouldn't even round to 45... it rounds to 50. Yuck.
Beats the alternative - but when the heck did I blink so long that I gained all these extra years?? That these really fun and cool people are now my son's age. That all of the really fun stuff that I did when I was younger has turned to distant memories.
All the while trying to be a good example (or horrible warning) because Oh M'gosh... I could TOTALLY be your mommy!
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