...what, with 42 looming around the corner. As many of you know, turning 40 didn't bother me at all. However recently things have been happening lately that are making me dread my next birthday.
A few months ago I was doing OT (occupational therapy)with Tommy. When we do one of the exercises he sits on the bathroom counter so we are kind of at an even level. I am sometimes unsure of these exercises so I was really concentrating, and this is how the conversation went:
Tommy: Mommy, you have a cut in your forehead
Me: No, that would be a wrinkle (I then raise my eyebrows to make the lovely horizontal lines across my forehead)
Tommy: No, that isn't it, it goes up and down between your eyes
Me: No, that's STILL a wrinkle (as I now squish up my face to make the even lovlier vertical lines between my eyes)
Tommy: Well, it looks like a cut to me!
After that conversation I had a major complex and immediately called my friend Dr. Mike to see about some Botox. Adrian put THAT idea to rest, so I still have the wrinkles.
Well, fast forward to tonight. I go to the neighbor's house to tell Tommy it is time to come home for dinner. This is a kid that Tommy doesn't play with often so we don't know them very well. The older brother comes to the door and says "Tommy, your GRANDMA is here to pick you up".
Who whatta? GRANDMA? OK, so I'll admit, I do get my hair cut by a gal who cuts the hair of a LOT of old ladies. And I'm always concerned that I'm going to walk out of there looking like said old ladies. However usually I look pretty hip. That is until last week when Ms. Haircutter was too busy talking and pretty much scalped me. So I have really short old-lady looking hair which apparently makes me look like my own child's grandmother.
It's only Tuesday but I'm thinking a cocktail is in order. I'm off to figure out what old ladies drink while I look up Dr. Mike's phone number.