Now, I always knew I was short, but I had always thought it was pretty clear I was older than a 10 year old. Or so I thought until I came to America. Me and my family go out to eat a lot what with living in a hotel and all, and recently I've been asked a lot whether or not I would like one of those menus that come with crayons so that you can color them. Tonight was the 3rd night in a row ... maybe I'm just not dressing my age, or maybe I look like the artsy type, but I still thought people would be able to guess, that that kinda stuff isnt really my thing anymore. Though I suppose I should be flattered that they think I don't look that old. Maybe when I get even older I won't need to worry about wrinkles. O.O That does seem to brighten my future.
But know the funniest part? Is that almost everytime I turn down the crayon menu, I immediatly become an adult. After that they always call me "Miss". One waiter ever called me "Ma'am". Oh dear. Whatever happened to being a teenager? Or has America changed so much in my ten year absence that those years just became nonexistant? What a terrifying thought.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
You know, you're probably just blessed with good genes. I was at a dinner party with your mom and she mentioned that she wasn't having any more children and another woman (who shall remain nameless) said "It's never too late, I was 36 when I had my youngest." Your mom said, "I was 38 when I had Anna, and she's 15 now."
Post a Comment