June 3, 2009

Plink

Up until a year ago our youngest son had no idea his mommy was "an older" mommy. I was just "Momma" to him. However, thanks to our neighbor, my head, and a librarian, he now knows the truth. His mom is old.

Our neighbor was the first person to open his eyes to this fact. One day last spring my little guy asked me if we could take a walk. "Sure!" I replied and off we went. We were feeling so happy and carefree, enjoying the sunshine and warming temperatures after a long winter. But then, as we walked past our neighbor's house a sudden chill crept down both our backs.

As we strolled past the neighbor's house we noticed she was out doing some yard work, no doubt enjoying the lovely weather herself. My son looked at her and called out, "Hi!"
"Hello!", she replied. Then she looked at me. "So, who is this little guy? Is he your son or your grandson?" She never knew what hit her. No. I'm just kidding.
"He's my son." I replied a bit defensively. I looked down at said son and noticed his face. He looked a bit confused and slightly dismayed, but didn't say a word.

Then, about 6 months later a librarian put more "old mom" ideas into his head. We had spent about an hour at the library and were finally ready to head home. We piled our books on the counter and the librarian began running them through the scanner. She was having a hard time reading the computer screen and she kept fiddling with her glasses. Finally she looked at our son and smiled, "Does your grandma have trouble with her glasses too?"

My head is the last bit of proof he needs...
every afternoon, about 1:00 P.M. I take a nap. I can't help it. I'm plugging along, doing my thing, and suddenly I've had it. I have to sleep. So, I plop down on the couch and within minutes I'm off to dreamland.

Well, shortly after the day at the library I was taking my usual nap. I was warm and cozy and snuggled deep into the cushions of our couch. Just as I drifted off into a nice deep sleep, plink! My eyes flew open as a sharp, needle prick of pain hit my head, then nothing. Silence. My eyes fluttered shut and I once more began to drift off into a deep sleep. Plink! Another pin prick of pain on the top of my head. My eyes flew open but I didn't see anything amiss and I quickly succumbed to sleep once more. Plink! This time I flew up into a sitting position and there stood my son, right near my head. "What on earth are you doing?" I growled.
"I'm plucking your grey hair for you mommy. Then you won't look so old."

6 comments:

  1. You have good stories, reality 101. I was not expecting the end of the story....delightful. But he needs to know gray hairs are far better than no hairs!

    I have not been officially called the grandmother to my face, yet....but my 26 year old son has been called the father to Charlotte several times. "They" say,"It keeps you young". I have another side I would like to tell the "outsiders" whose life experiences have not included this blessing. And that would definitely be the theme.... a fantastic, grace filled journey of blessing!

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  2. I used to do that for Mom too. She was an older Mom in my eyes. (She was 28 when she had me btw). If it really gets to you color your hair green and get a tattoo. Problem solved!

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  3. Oh, Barrett! Ha ha ha!

    Please tell me you laughed, Judy. :D That is awesome!!!

    :D Hee hee hee! :D

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  4. That's a hoot! I found my first grey hair while in the maternity ward with my last. Took it as a sign to quit.

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  5. Dear MJ,
    The real issue at stake here is not you looking old, feeling old, being old or you looking young, feeling young, or being young.

    It's about how to spell the color of these offensive hairs.

    Gray or Grey?

    Hmmmmmmmmmmm?

    BTW--I would definitely NOT say that you look like Barrett's grandmother. At all. You don't look like he's your firstborn and you're 23, but you certainly don't look (or act) like grandma.

    Ha, I can't say a whole lot. A customer (who has definitely met Mrs. Moody several times)came up to me and said, "Oh, now, you're Adam's wife, aren't you?"

    No ma'am. Small 30 year difference.
    :)

    Alex

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  6. HAHAHA! Judy, your writing skills are second to none and this was one of the cutest stories evah!

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