Occasionally, I look at pictures of myself and no less than 30 seconds later I am googling “common side effects of botox.” The thirties – thus far – have been great. A good friend once told me that my life would begin at 30, and he may not have been wrong. But, you know what else began at 30? the slippery slope into geriatricAli.
I am going to blame the sun. THE SUN. I was looking into the sun, dammit!
But when my sister and I were discussing our plastic surgeries of choice, she told me that it was not the lines that made her feel old. It was this one time that she was checking out and the person behind the counter didn’t flirt with her. Because, she told me, that was her thing. She’d flash her smile…and she wouldn’t just get free shit, she’d get a big ego boost all “oh yes, I still have it.” Only this one time, she got ignored.
I sat and listened to her story. what? How come that wasn’t MY THING? We were sisters, after all. We have the same toothbrush. How come the only time I get noticed by the opposite gender it’s by the oldest of the old and the youngest of the young? and how come when the old men notice me it’s the 85-year-old men at Tim Horton’s who buy me coffee and not, say, Roger Sterling? and how come when young men notice me it’s by elementary school kids and not, say, Chace Crawford?
It happened again this morning when I dropped off Isabella at school.
This little boy comes over to me and says: Do you want to come over to my house after school?
And once I stop the maniacal laughter, he continued: I have this new game…The Clone Wars. Do you want to come over and play it with me? I think you would like to play it! I am awesome at it! I know the best moves and I could show you them! and then we could drink chocolate milk and eat cookies!
I am pretty sure a 4-year-old boy just asked me out.