by Kathleen Walker of Being Single Is The New Black
There comes in a time in every person’s life when they realize they are not a kid anymore. Our age may belie our actions, but in the end, we discover we are indeed getting older and doing and saying things we swore in our youth would never happen. This is a short musing about when I realized that Wow – at almost 43 – I am getting old.
I’d like to think that I still have a modicum of hipness left in me. If you were to actually see me right now, you would notice I am rocking a pair of skinny jeans, Chuck Taylor Lo Tops, the requisite scarf of all Southern California fashionistas, and fluorescent pink nail polish on my fingers and toes. I have a strange obsession with Bruno Mars and could probably kick the pants off of any tween who challenged me at Name That Tune with current pop songs. I still get carded for video games, alcohol and at bars. Despite all that though, I realized I am getting older.
I noticed it when I had heard Neal Diamond was touring a few years ago, and the first thought that popped into my head was “Wow – that would be a great show“. My second inkling was when I discovered I had a full appreciation of the genius that is Freddy Mercury. My parents played both artists rather frequently in my household, so growing up and being forced to listen to both artists made me think my ears would bleed.
The thought came full circle to me the other night in the bathroom of the college campus I attend every Tuesday and Thursday night. I noticed a girl in there who had on the ugliest knee high boots I had ever seen, along with leggings and a short sweater. My first thought was “Wow, kids dress dumb today“. Then I mentally recoiled in horror. I am positive this is something my mother would have said, and her mother would have said and every mother who has ever been a mother might have said.
I started to realize how much my views have changed, softened and hardened. I remember whining, begging and pleading to be allowed to wear mini-skirts in high school and junior high. My mom refused because she thought it was inappropriate. I understand that now that I see little girls who look twice their age dressing more provocatively that I did at 25.
I get very annoyed when I see people walking to church on Sunday looking like they just left the club on Saturday night or wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Whatever happen to Sunday best? Yes, you may say God doesn’t care how you look, but shouldn’t one take a little pride in their looks when they go to worship?
I am bugged more now than ever by people who don’t use turn signals, who abuse the 15 items or less line and just over all stupidity. I can no longer spend a wild night drinking and carry on the next morning status quo. Heck, I can barely stay up past 10 pm anymore.
It is a sobering realization when you think about it. What’s next? I mean I have already used the “Because I spent 12 hours in labor to bring you into this world – the least you can do is hold the box of fruit roll ups for me” on my son. I have called the police when a neighbor’s party woke me up at 3 am. I have worn Spanx.
I just hope I don’t end up that creepy cat lady that sits on the porch and sneers at the kids going by yelling at them to get off my lawn. Chances are though, I probably will be that woman and still wearing fluorescent nail polish. I mean, some things never change no matter how old you are!
Photo credit: hubpages.com
