A few days ago the postman delivered an invitation. At first I thought it was for my parents--they've used this address in the past. Then, no--that truly was my name on the envelope. Someone, somewhere must have had a dyslexic moment and reversed the numbers of my age. I can think of no other reason why the AARP would be sending me an invitation for membership--even had a card all engraved with my name. To the best of my knowledge I haven't purchased anything beige or wicker in the past several months. (Yes. I know that's a stereotype. But I was offended, People! And a little hurt.)
My first gray hairs showed up when I was in high school. My experiment with hair colors tapered off when my son was born--my gray roots showing all of the sudden ended up at the bottom of the priority list! Well, thanks to that little envelop of love we're breaking out the Nice-N-Easy this week. How does some shade of purple sound? Oh, maybe you can help me choose a different shade--I've run the full gamut of hair colors. Except platinum blond. Please don't even suggest it.
And in the "How Ironic Is This?" category--somehow my name and address was put on the mommy-to-be lists. I am once again being bombarded by baby formula and new born diaper samples. Before you even say it--No. They do not know something I don't know. In spite of my cleaning frenzies and odd eating habits, there is not another little one on the way. Besides, the husband will tell you that I always eat weird stuff. Being pregnant had nothing to do with it.
So if you happen upon this headline out in cyber news somewhere: 63-Year-Old Gives Birth! Obviously Unstable New Mom Claims Immaculate Conception! It's not me. Honest!