Some spring chickens
As I am now in my mid thirties, with three children, I see new signs of physical aging popping up every day. It’s depressing. So anytime someone actually thinks I’m much younger is welcomed……except for yesterday.
My friend Shawn and I needed a dinner out. I had just survived a week with a teenager visiting and had an Easter party at my house with over a dozen kids. I was exhausted, but I needed an hour or two just to get away. My friend’s husband had been working non-stop all week, and with a 1 and 2 year old to look after and clean up after and entertain all while trying to sell their house, well, she needed a break. Actually, we needed more than just a break, we needed a drink.
We chose Mexican because we wanted some good margaritas. I had heard of this locally owned place that served some good food and some good drink. Perfect for our little dinner outing. When the waitress took our drink order, she actually carded us. We giggled. “You’re too kind,” my friend said. I just laughed, as it’s quite evident with my "fine lines" and grey hairs and overall haggard look that there’s no way I could be in my 20s, let alone under 21!
The thing is, the waitress, who was probably in her late 30s early 40s was not trying to complement us. She really wanted to see our IDs. Maybe it was because it was little dark in the restaurant, or maybe she had poor eye sight. But she told us that we looked really young. I showed her mine, still laughing. But my friend Shawn could not find hers. It was in her backpack/diaper bag, with the sitters, at home. The waitress told her she couldn’t serve her. As Shawn was shuffling through her wallet, she flashed her pictures of her 2 kids, and told her she was 38 years old. But still, the waitress would not serve her.
We still had a good dinner and great conversation. But looking “so young” sure was a bummer.