The Kidling just walked in the door with her father. She didn’t see me, so I walked over to say hello.
“Oh, you surprised me!” she exclaimed. She stopped, cocking her head and studying my face. Moments passed, then finally, “You look old!”
I laughed. The Dada laughed. She continued,
“Well, in those glasses, you look old.”
I laughed again. The Dada laughed harder. She went on. Again.
“You look like Carol. An old Carol.”
At this point, The Dada was struggling with his effort to contain his mirth. The Kidling ran from the room, heading toward the bathroom. She came to a sudden halt around the corner, then turned around and screeched back into the kitchen.
“At least you look like Nana. An old Nana.”
And as much as I love her beautiful, kind, and wise Nana Carol (though occasionally I am less fond of her mocking offspring, The Dada), I do believe I will be returning to my regular specs. This 30-something mother doesn’t need to look like anyone’s grandmother.
Also? The Kidling is a total shit.
Just like her father.