I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that I have fully entered the post-reproductive years. Certain people have been very helpful in pointing out that, despite the lack of gray hair on my head, time is running out for me.
Yesterday I learned that I am no longer eligible to participate in women's health studies targeting reproductive issues. Not that I wanted to participate, but it was always nice to know that I could if the mood struck me.
Then I went shopping with Lola. I thought I might pick myself out a Mother's Day dress. I don't know why. I don't even wear dresses. I prefer skirts (with blouses). Still, as we looked through the racks of clothing, we had this illuminating conversation:
Me: What about this one?
Lola: Um. No, Mom.
Me: Why not?
Lola: Mom. It's an old lady dress.
Me: Well, I can't wear teen clothes, Lola. I don't even want to wear teen clothes.
Lola: I don't want you to wear teen clothes, Mom.
Me: Well, what do you want?
Lola: I just want you to dress like the middle-aged woman you are.
sigh.
6 comments:
Well, at least you weren't shopping at Lane Bryant. Look on the bright side.
How do you know I wasn't? Maybe I was, and you just made it ten times worse. While you're at it, why don't you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice in it?
But isn't it nice to know that your daughter can be honest and frank with you?
My daughter needs some honesty and frankness. Maybe she can get some of Lola's (which she seems to have in excess). My girl keeps telling people I am ten years older than I am - and people believe her. I'm not sure if it is a compliment that I look really good for 44, because I AM ONLY 34!!!
Little Miss does have a pretty good excuse - she's only 3. Or maybe she's 13? Hmmmm. Intrigue.
Welcome to my world! Look at the bright side: at least you DID reproduce during your reproductive years.
Hey, DaltonGirl, a quote from "The Princess Bride!"
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