Last Wednesday night, my daughter had her second grade music program at school. So instead of stressing about preparing and cleaning up dinner, I said the five magic words every kid loves to hear: "Let's go get Happy Meals." "Yay! Yahoo! Mom, you're the best." Doesn't take much does it. So we load up into the car. (Does a Tahoe count as a car? I don't really like calling it a truck. That sounds, so...so...so not me...Besides, we call her "Tasha"...that's not very "truckley") Everybody buckled? Yup. Ok, let's go. We arrive at McDonald's and pull up to the window of the drive-thru. I order two Happy Meals and the worst crispy chicken salad ever made, complete with limp lettuce and sparse veggies. (Blech. Chick-fil-a is the gold standard for fast food salads. The rest are imposters. Alas, I digress. ) Meanwhile, the kids are in the car chatting and the twenty-something male cashier hears them. He then looks in and says "Oh you have two bebes with you." I'm thinkin', well one is almost 8 and the other is 5, and they don't have pacifiers in their mouths so I'm not sure they count as "bebes" but decided it wasn't worth mentioning so I said, "Sure do."
And then it happened. The comment I thought I wouldn't hear for another 20 years:
He. did. not. just. call. me. what. I. think. he. did? Or did he? At that point all I could hear was the echo "Grandma. Grandma. Grandma. Grandma." I looked at him slack-jawed and speechless and thinking that there is no way he can possibly think that I am their grandmother.
And then I started laughing uncontrollably. Laughing so hard that I don't even remember paying the guy who, at this point, had no idea what was so funny. Then The Princess yells from the back of the car, "Mom did he just call you our Grandma?" Amidst my tears of laughter and fits of giggles, I eeked out "Yes he did sweetie...bahahahahaha." Then she says, "Mom, there is no way you look like a Grandma. You don't have wrinkles and white hair." Oh, I love that child. Her birthday is this week. She can have whatever she wants.
After I grabbed the food and drove off, I realized that, yes, there are people my age that are grandparents. Albeit YOUNG grandparents. I also realize that there are cultures of which he is part of that typically marry (or not) and have children much earlier than me and the majority of my closest friends who all got married and had kids later in life. So yes, to this guy, someone my age probably is the grandmother. But come on, I don't look THAT old to garner a grandma comment. With a little bit of help from TimeWise by MaryKay and being blessed with my Italian grandmother's skin, I don't have alot of wrinkles other than some laugh lines around the eyes WHEN I laugh. Oh, and and I pay big bucks to get my hair restored to it's natural color every 6 or 7 weeks, so you gotta look hard for that gray. Right now, anyway ;)!
I am so glad it made me laugh, and that I am secure about who I am at 44. Because that really could have been a "drive-thru blow to my ego" if I had let it. Some people are weird about age. I, however, don't care, don't hide it, don't have a problem telling people when asked, and don't understand what the big deal is. So yes, I just thought it was really, really, funny. The whole exchange crumbled my bloggers block giving me a quintessential blogworthy moment and one of the hardiest laughs I have had in a long time. And I'm still giggling out loud as I type this several days later. I hope you have enjoyed a laugh at my expense...you should. It was really, really funny.
Oh, and as an aside, when I was searching for Granny Clampett's picture, I learned that she and I share the same birthday. (61 years apart, that is) Well, we did, as she is no longer with us. But the irony of it wasn't lost on me...no sirree.