It has come to this.
I am being hit on by men over 60.
Not Sean Connery men over 60 types.
No.
A skinny guy at the coop slapping price labels
With one of those plastic label slapper things.
Yeah. That’s my type.
An orange baseball cap with a few strands of white hair sticking out
Surely covering a bald spot
Wire rim glasses
Eager to help me find what I need.
I am shopping for a hairbrush.
My hair is a mess.
I am wearing sweats, just came from yoga.
I look yeah great right.
Why is this guy hitting on me?
I have a wedding ring on.
(And the guy at home is not quite 50
And still quite fetching, I might add.)
I suppose none of this has to be about me.
He is helping me with the gluten free.
Shares that he has celiac disease.
Every day I have to have something remind me
That I’m getting older.
That I’ve gotten older.
That I’m practically old.
Is that it?
Calling 53 (54 in June) middle age is a misnomer.
I do not plan to live to 108.
