Remember just a few postings ago when I whined about how much I needed a make-over? Nothing like having your worst thoughts verbalized to you in a matter of two days.
So, we're once again in a pre-approved Weight Watchers meal restaurant crappy pizza joint when a woman walks over and looks at me and looks at Ella and says, "Is this your grand-daughter?" I actually laughed. It was amusing to me because Todd has this paranoia that we are going to take Ella to her first day of kindergarten and everyone is going to think he is the grandpa. I think it also didn't bother me because the woman was (not to be mean) mentally challenged. So, OK, maybe to her I did look like a grandma. No biggie.
Until today.
A bookstore customer of ours came in when Ella and her keeper dropped by and the customer said, "Is this your grand-daughter?"
It wasn't that funny this time around. (Especially since I just colored my hair...HELLLLOOOO)
I know I'm getting OLD. But 39 is NOT. THAT. OLD.
Dang.
I seriously need a makeover.
Apparently one to take about 35 years off...
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