I always used to look younger than my actual age.  People would tell me that I would like that when I got older but I was so sure that I just wanted to look my age - not older - but just my age.  Apparently, my wish has come true and maybe even more than what I wished for.

I was purchasing a children's cowboy belt the other day when the cashier said, "Is this for your son or grandson?"  Okay, lady.  Do I look like some marshmallow that you can say anything to?  Of course, I would never say any such thing so I took my second option and just smiled sweetly.

When I came home and was bemoaning the whole incident, my daughter thought she would be kind and helpful and offer me a suggestion - a way to be young again - "Well, why don't you get a face lift?"

I'm still trying to recover from this blow to my pride comment that was meant to be helpful.

I love you anyways pioneergirl.

If I can pull myself away from the tissue box and get a hold of myself I'll try to be back Tuesday with a job I tackled this week.

Copyright 2009 Treasuring the Moments