Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Exuse me, m'am
When I was sixteen I could get half price lift tickets at our favorite ski area for looking twelve years old. When I got home from my mission I had a hard time convincing people I was old enough to have served in the first place, and when I was a college graduate working in a home for troubled teenage girls I was mistaken more than once for one of the residents. I've always found a sense of pleasure and even comfort in my youthful features and petite stature, but today I was forced to resign myself to the fact that perhaps I'm starting to look my age. I've been called m'am before, but mostly by children and youth shorter or at least younger than myself. Grown women with children and grandchildren now use the formal address when speaking to me, and I'm just not sure how I feel about it. The term forces me to take a closer look at my life: my ten o'clock bedtime already seems late, I wear house slippers, and raisins are a regular part of my diet. All I need is saggy boobs and a hair net. Am I really old enough to be a m'am?
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2 comments:
Hehe! Saggy boobs! You can check that one off after you have a baby! hehe! Your cute, i love your face.
ya, I agree w/the last comment. It will happen sooner than you want! But I am watching 10 years younger as I write this and am learning that although you and I, at our age, don't want to look 10 years younger (high school) but we want to look our age. So you're right about the whole pj's thing. Ya, I need to change that too. but you don't like a ma'am.
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