I am not laboring under the illusion that I’m still a teenager. I am a teacher, wife, and mother of two. I am not as firm as I used to be, I could stand to lose a few pounds, and I’m not the most physically fit woman on the planet. I know I’m not as young as I used to be. What I don’t know is when exactly I became old.
Admittedly, I have been getting several emails a day from Assisted Living, AARP, 50 Plus Dating, and the Scooter Store for quite some time. I just chalked those messages up to spam, deleted them, and moved on. Today, however, I got a letter in the mail from Ohio Health with a list of free seminars from the Council for Older Adults. Topics included menopause and dealing with a mid-life crisis, developed for the “mature woman.”
I was briefly offended by their assumptions, or more suitably, their accusations. “How dare they!” I thought. “I am only thirty-eight. I stay up past ten p.m., get up after four a.m., and I never eat dinner before five in the afternoon.” I was so irritated that I went running into the living room to show the letter to my husband.
He looked up at me from his recliner and said, “Don’t worry, sweetie. They obviously sent it to you by mistake. You’re the least mature woman I know.”
Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss those people from 50 Plus Dating. If he keeps it up, I may be single again soon!