I just got back from Whole Foods where I just had the worst experience of my life to date. Not this experience:
… but a bad one nonetheless.
Anyway, I went to Whole Foods with Harper and my neighbor, Jeff, who just happens to be a very famous and important BMX’er. At least he was in the mid-90’s. Let me also note here that Jeff is less than 4 years younger than me (this will be important later).
Sorry to out you, Jeff. Kind of.
So anyway, there we are, the three of us, waiting for a fresh loaf of ciabatta to come out of the oven, when a 60 year old woman comes over and starts talking to Harper. Then she says to me, “You must be the grandmother.” Wait, did she say grandmother? I was sure I had misheard her. Or maybe she was kidding.
Until she asked again.
”No,” I assured her, “she’s mine.” “ How old are you?” she queried. I informed her I was only 39. “Really, only 39?” she replied. By this time Jeff was looking at the ground with his hand over his mouth. She then told me there were lots of 39 year old grandmothers.
I was so shocked that it wasn’t until I reached the checkout line that I realized the full implication of our interaction; she thought that Jeff was Harper’s father and that I was Jeff’s mother. Jeff, of course, was texting the discourse to his housemate before we even left the store.
I am never leaving the house without makeup again. And I’m coloring my hair posthaste.
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