Depressing

This must resemble what I looked like coming out of Publix tonight. Because when the 18-ish bagger who helped me with my groceries opened the minivan’s trunk and saw the baby stroller, he asked about my kids.

“I have three boys,” I replied.

“Are they all grown up now?”

Excuse me???

(Laughing) “No, they’re all still young. One is eleven, one is seven and the youngest is three months old.”

“OH…” he said, wide-eyed.

Now, granted–I wasn’t wearing much makeup. And I was dressed in jeans and a rather frumpy sweater. And I know that I am old enough to be that teenager’s mother. Heck, some of my same-aged friends actually DO have grandchildren at this point in life.

But, come on! Do I really look THAT old? So old that it’s impossible to imagine that I gave birth three months ago? Not everyone has kids right after high school. I should’ve told him that and whacked him with my purse.

Time to log off, have a glass of prune juice, take out my dentures and limp off to bed on my walker.