A Ripe Age

I've always been told I look younger than I am...except for maybe at birth.

Before two weeks ago, I had never been able to purchase alcohol without being carded; whether at a grocery store, liquor store, or in a restaurant. No matter how alcohol savvy I try to act, it seems never enough to forgo the age-check.

Still, while sometimes it's a little embarrassing that I'm the only one in a group of people who gets carded, perhaps it's all about perspective.

So I look young. This will be a good thing a few years down the road.

But finally, at my ripe old age, I walked into the liquor store to purchase a bottle of wine (for those who are interested, "Apothic Red"--very yummy for a red wine). As habit would have it, I was reaching for my I.D. when the lady said, "that'll be $12.44." I paused. No way! I had to wonder why she went straight to the price and not the I.D. She was a new cashier--so it's not like she'd seen me in there before. I looked at what I was wearing: nothing super mature--flip flops, baggy shorts and a t-shirt. Okay, not mature at all. Hmmmm...Did I say something real mature?..Ha! Yeah right! Not able to figure it out, I still had to revel in the moment--internally because I didn't want to give her a reason to be suspicious.

When I got home, I told Sam about the big event. He said, "She probably saw your grey hair."

Of course he was joking--weren't you honey! However, there is some bit of truth to that. I had grey hair when I was 13--a boy at camp told me so--and once again, they've suddenly sprouted another appearance. Although this time, I think they're here to stay. Unless.....