An interesting thing happened over the weekend. I was driving with my mother, talking to her about my life in that certain way that daughters reserve for conversations with their mothers, when all of a sudden she said something that completely made me stockpile her words into a corner of my mind to be deciphered later (read: now).
So what did she say, you ask?
Hold on. I need to sit down . . .
Okay. Here it is:
“. . . at your age . . .”
I don’t remember specifically what we were talking about or what she said after that. My attention span got stuck on those three words like tires in mud.
At. Your. Age.
These words have been spinning through my mind ever since. I’m pretty sure that this officially makes me old and I’m not even sure how it happened. It seems like one minute I was standing with one foot barely touching down on the untrodden red carpet rolled out before me, and the next minute I’m going through a red light because my brain can’t move past the fact that I’ve just been called “old” – by my mother.
How do I feel?
Oh, you mean besides OLD. Well, the word retrospective comes to mind (although I’m not quite sure if you would call that an actual “feeling”).
I’m thinking back to the different phases of my life and realizing that throughout most of it I’ve been wrong about so many things and on so many levels.
Me at age 10:
I don’t have to drink milk or stay out of the sun because I’ll never get old.
Me at age 14:
I don’t need to pay attention in school. I will grow up and get discovered and be the next big star.
Me at age 19:
I will be the perfect mother.
And then the big one – Me at age 24:
Is this it? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!!!
As a follow-up to all my dumb-ass thoughts on life, I’d just like to say one thing:
Youth really IS wasted on the young.
PS. *sigh of relief* I can say that now that I’m “old”.
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