So, what's with the elderly lady who stopped Pooh Bear and I on my way out of a restaurant yesterday to ask about my GRANDDAUGHTER? Really? "Nope, not my granddaughter," I announced looking over my shoulder.
"A niece?", she called a bit louder.
"Unh-uh," I stopped.
"Little friend?" she ventured.
I faced the inquiring person. "My daughter. She's my daughter." You can stop guessing now. I'm insulted enough. She looks like a mini-me, and besides, do I really look that old? No.
Her husband chided her while catching my eye, "That was mean. She's obviously not happy you called her a grandma."
You got that right, old man. I mean, I could be a grandma technically. I'm sure there are plenty my age, right?
Pooh Bear explained to me as we exited, "When we get home you can dye your roots, Mom."
So, it was a grooming issue after all.
The Reasons Basketball is the Way It Is
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2 comments:
That sure was one of those ouch moments. Can't believe she kept pressings it, wonder if her huband wished he had printed the cards saying my wife had dementia please don't be offended by anything that comes out of her mouth.
Love and Blessings
Amy
PS have you ever asked someone when they were due and they had just gained weight? been there, done that, was so embarassed.
Shep,
It wasn't that bad...just a dent to the old beauty ego;)
don't remember ever doing the due/gained weight but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened
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