I remember when my parents turned 40. My sister and I put rocking chairs on their birthday cake and gave gave them buttons that said “Middle Age is Marvelous”. A few years ago I turned 40. Since I come from a long line of pack rats (we are too organized to be called hoarders) my mother gave one of those buttons back to me. My dad found it hilarious. Me not so much.
While I am still a wee bit in denial there are some clear signs from above that it’s time for me to admit I’m not a kid any longer. And I’m not talking about the obvious ones like my knees hurting every time the weather changes or the fact that all new music (pop or country) sounds the same to me. I’m talking about sneaky things. Such as……..
#1 I have no idea what Snapchat is, how it works or why it even exists. Don’t we already have text messaging, Twitter DMs, Facebook messaging, etc.? Ditto for Tango, Kik, etc.
#2 I no longer can enjoy VH1. Not that long ago I loved that network and smugly thought it was for cool people too mature for MTV (yes really). Now I might as well be watching broadcasts from the planet Betelgeuse. I don’t recognize anyone or anything on it (Note- you are awesome if you got that reference).
#3 Going to a mall is more of an exercise in, well, exercise, than in purchasing. I am no longer the target demographic for most of the stores there. If the displays in the front windows and the horrible music emanating from them don’t make that perfectly clear I only have to take 2 steps in to realize the error of my ways. Call me old fashioned, but I think shorts and skirts should be longer than navel length. I don’t want to wear 17 layers of tank tops and STILL have my bra straps visible. And who over the age of nine can actually wear size XXXS anyway??
#4 Young people talk to me like I’m old. I get called “ma’am” by the kids bagging my groceries and taking my order at fast food places. My 11 year old nephew is amazed every time I’ve heard of a game or Vine he’s all excited about. The 20 somethings I work with cannot fathom college without a laptop or the Internet. I never ever get carded anymore.
Thankfully I’m (mostly) OK with the fact that my youth is behind me. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And if I occasionally like to pretend I’m still not over the hill that’s between me and my aching knees.