I've officially moved to the 'Old' Side
And don't try to convince me 32-years-old is not old, because, when I waddled my way into a nameless chain restaurant last week with the kidlings in tow to grab us dinner--I was told otherwise. If I could have counted to looks of horror the crowd of younger patrons bestowed upon us as we tripped and skipped and dragged ourselves from the parking lot to the take out counter, I would be the proverbial rich woman. Or I just managed to secure a few dozen forms of birth control for the crowd.
There were looks of complete horror. Like, "She's not going to eat here with them is she?" All the way to the simple, "Oh. My. God." looks of terror. And this all from me just unbuckling and bringing my kids to a counter and then leaving.
Aside from the looks of the younger crowd, there were my thoughts. Which were just as horrifying. I mean, how can I be positive when I turned into the parking lot, and almost right into some barely 16-year-olds making out on a car hood? In plain daylight? At 5:30pm in the afternoon? I wasn't disgusted. Nor hiding the abomination from the kids. I was more.... um, old. Like my mother speaking my thoughts. I wondered why in the world making out on a car hood in front of the masses could in any way be romantic, or the way one would want to show affection. Completely forgetting what teen lust does to ones sense of romance.
It got worse when the girl (and yes, she was 18 at most) took my money in exchange for my brown bag of dinner. She grinned fake-like at my daughter. Then sneered a little at my son when he wandered a bit too close to those seated only a few feet away. And then held the door open for me as we left. Not saying aloud, "Your kind is like not welcome like here."
Sigh. I even felt old. Not sure if it was the motherhood in me. The baggy shirt and Capri pants. Or the fact that I hadn't showered in 4 days that made that moment stick out like a dirty stick in the mud on my self-confidence. Either way, I don't think I will venture out to the younger side of the tracks any time soon. The food wasn't that good. And definitely not the company either.
There were looks of complete horror. Like, "She's not going to eat here with them is she?" All the way to the simple, "Oh. My. God." looks of terror. And this all from me just unbuckling and bringing my kids to a counter and then leaving.
Aside from the looks of the younger crowd, there were my thoughts. Which were just as horrifying. I mean, how can I be positive when I turned into the parking lot, and almost right into some barely 16-year-olds making out on a car hood? In plain daylight? At 5:30pm in the afternoon? I wasn't disgusted. Nor hiding the abomination from the kids. I was more.... um, old. Like my mother speaking my thoughts. I wondered why in the world making out on a car hood in front of the masses could in any way be romantic, or the way one would want to show affection. Completely forgetting what teen lust does to ones sense of romance.
It got worse when the girl (and yes, she was 18 at most) took my money in exchange for my brown bag of dinner. She grinned fake-like at my daughter. Then sneered a little at my son when he wandered a bit too close to those seated only a few feet away. And then held the door open for me as we left. Not saying aloud, "Your kind is like not welcome like here."
Sigh. I even felt old. Not sure if it was the motherhood in me. The baggy shirt and Capri pants. Or the fact that I hadn't showered in 4 days that made that moment stick out like a dirty stick in the mud on my self-confidence. Either way, I don't think I will venture out to the younger side of the tracks any time soon. The food wasn't that good. And definitely not the company either.
Labels: life, me, motherhood
