A few weeks ago, Kristi came to my house for the first time and while giving her the grand tour, she noticed a copy of my senior picture sitting on the bookcase.
“Wow, you do look way younger there,” she said. “I think you look fairly young now, but you obviously could look much younger.”
I wasn’t offended – I laughed, actually – because I’ve grown accustomed to my face. (Oh man, I crack myself up). But I also don’t think about my looking young as much anymore. I spend most of my time with people who already know me, who aren’t surprised to find out my age because they already know it.
And then, once in a while, something will happen that reminds me how very young I appear to someone who doesn’t know me.
Bart is taking one pre-req for his masters program at the community college. Just down the street is a lovely public library and I have been going there while he is in class.
Earlier this week, I was sitting in a big chair there, typing away on my laptop, when a teenage guy stopped behind the chair and exclaimed “You type so fast!”
There isn’t much to say to that really, but I smiled and said thank you and turned back to the computer.
He didn’t move.
“So, what school do you go to?”
“Oh, I go to UT.”
I was hoping that this response would disuade him, but he didn’t move. Oh dear.
“Hmm, are you a freshman?”
“No, actually, I’m a graduate student.”
This clearly did the trick, and he moved on.
But really? Do I still look like I’m in high school? (Don’t answer that question). It’s been five years since I was a freshman in college.
And obviously he was too young to be in the habit of doing the old ring check. I mean, he was looking at my hands as I typed, wasn’t he? If he’d been paying any attention at all, he should have noticed the ring on an important finger. But obviously he didn’t.
Note to self: stop wearing lotion with SPF and get some wrinkles and sun spots.