|ME WITH MY LOVING DAUGHTER |
She's 27. Which of course, if you
do the math, means I gave birth to her
before I was even born.
"Thank you," I said, smiling.
"You're welcome, ma'am," he replied politely.
Ma'am? Ma'am?!? He might as well have punched me between the eyes and said, "No problem, you 207-year-old hag!"
That's when I realized that this young man, and more importantly, everyone in the whole world, now saw me as a middle-aged woman.
I was so rattled I went home and told my daughter about it. She didn't really get it. (Ohhhh, but she will, some day.)
"He was just being polite," she said.
"No, he was being deferential," I said. "I'm not ready to be respected by people just because I'm their elder."
"Aww, don't worry, Mom," my daughter said, hugging me. "We'll never respect you."
And the strange thing is, that actually made me feel better.