Continued from last blog...

I didn't boycott that store entirely, even after the insolence of the bag boy. I was pushing my cart through the same grocery store a couple of weeks later. As I approached the end of an aisle, a very young, very pretty mom told her son "Watch out, there's a girl coming!" (Called me a girl, not a lady!) I smiled the smile of a woman who feels five years younger. Bless that pretty mom's heart. She's probably a MaryKay consultant. I should've asked her for a catalog.



Age, they say, is only a number. I'd also like to point out that other things can be numbered too. Lines near one's eyes and shimmering hairs, for example. But I can also count to seven, which is how much younger my last three dates have been. Fabulous. I like it. They are great. As one of Judi Dench's characters said, when flattered by the attentions of a much younger man, "Just as I was on the verge of getting a tight perm...."
I just love Judi Dench.