Age is in the Eye of the Beholder by Konnie Enos

On Facebook there have been these posts going around for at least a couple of years now saying “Never have I ever” then lists several things you’re supposed to count whether or not you’ve done them. The lists could be things like gone a cruise, played golf or ridden in limo. Some people wondered if miniature golf counted as playing golf. I personally had to scan my memory to see if I’d ever built a fire or ridden in a limo.

But one of the past ones which got me thinking was “lied about my age”.

You’re not supposed to ask a woman, especially a ‘mature’ woman, her age, and I’m old enough now to be considered senior woman. Though I’m generally fairly frank about my age and I always have been. But while I was thinking I’ve never lied about my age I remembered one incidence.

I had to have been twelve, thirteen at the oldest. Bonnie and I and our older sister went to the theater together. I wasn’t really paying attention as our sister paid for our tickets but I found out later we had more money than expected for treats. Why?

I think my sister realized it at the time she paid though didn’t correct the ticket seller. We were charged for two adult tickets and one child ticket.

I was utterly confused. Bonnie and I are identical, and our sister was taller than us, clearly older.

But then my sisters pointed out a few things about how I appeared compared to them.

Both my sisters were wearing at least some makeup, while I wasn't. Not tons, but enough to know it was there. It was also clear both girls weren’t flat chested. And though our older sister was the only one over five foot tall (not by much), Bonnie was close enough and her heels put her over.

I’m the shortest of the three of us and was wearing tennis shoes. Plus, since it was a slightly cool day I was wearing my sweater, which was a poncho style. (This was the 70’s so it was popular back then.) This effectively hid the fact I was as well-endowed as Bonnie. 

However I think the one thing that really made them think I was a younger girl was my hairstyle.

Both my sisters kept their hair fairly short and by then our older sister may have had hers permed in an afro (popular back then). Bonnie’s would have been bobbed about shoulder length.

I kept my hair long. And since I’d had no one to show me how to put it up, I generally could only do ponytails, pigtails and maybe simple braids. I’m fairly certain my waist length hair was in pigtails that day.

Not that it was the only time someone has assumed I was younger than I am.

One time I was talking to a lady I knew at church and mentioned that most people I knew at church who had kids around the same ages as mine were ten years younger than I was. She pointed out that she was the same age as another lady we went to church with who did have kids around the same ages as mine, stating their age. Which, coincidentally was ten years younger than I was.

I simply said, “Told you.”

Her jaw about hit the floor.

Which is why I have never felt the need to lie about my age, people are usually off anyway.

On the flip side I have had occasions when people have assumed I was the grandparent of my youngest son and youngest daughter.

Admittedly I do have a smattering of gray hair now, most of it on the underside of my hair. However, I generally keep my still long hair bound up in a ponytail so what gray I do have is visible. Also admittedly, all three of my youngest children have told me they have classmates/friends whose grandparents are my age.

I can see it since my own father was in his mid to late thirties when he had his first grandchild and that’s about how old I was when I had my three youngest. In fact, my husband’s great-niece is actually older than our youngest daughter by several months. Meaning his youngest sister was a grandparent before our third child was born.

Of course that just reminds of when my sister-in-law called to tell me her first grandchild had been born. She asked me how it felt to be a great aunt finally.

I cracked up. I have several of great nieces and nephews now. Though all on my husband’s side. So far only the one on my side however.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Age in the Eye of the Beholder by Konnie Enos

I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think I’ve ever looked my age. Part of that is that I’ve always been small in stature, which was a blessing for both Bonnie and I growing up. We ended up behind in school but I doubt any of our classmates realized we were as much as two years older than they were. We were never the tallest kids in class and by fourth grade I was always the shortest kid.

I can distinctly remember one year our drama teacher in high school wanting to line up the whole drama club across the stage by height. He indicated tallest on one end and shortest on the other then told everyone to sort themselves out. I went to the short end then sat down and waited, with Bonnie beside me, just a tiny bit taller. There is a picture in the year book of us sitting together on the end of the stage while everyone else sorted themselves out in the yearbook.

But as we’ve gotten older I’ve realized it was more than our lack of stature but something else that made us look so young.

My youngest daughter is a good half a foot taller than I am, being the same height as her father, and people routinely mistake her for younger.

This past weekend our church held a youth conference. It was for children, in the local area we call a stake, which is a group of congregations, who were ages fourteen to eighteen years old. After the weekend was over, the president of the stake was talking to my husband and at least two of my children. One of which was my youngest daughter.

He turned to her and asked her if she was old enough to go to the youth conference and if she’d gone.

Knowing my daughter I can imagine the expression on her face as she told him. “I’m twenty.”

At some point in the conversation he turned to my husband. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

What’s even funnier is when she was younger people would mistake her, my tallest daughter, for the one in college, and ask her about it. She’s five years younger than her oldest sister and was still in middle school at the time.

When I was newly married and in fact expecting my first child, who is now twenty-five, I was talking with a lady friend who was also newly married. She had at least met my husband, so she knew both of us.

Since we were both newly married we got on the subject of having kids. She said her and her husband were going to wait at least a year. I told her we weren’t waiting, even adding that we wanted to be parents before we were thirty.

She commented something along the lines of, “You have plenty of time.”

I shook my head and told her our child was due less than three months before Jerry’s thirtieth birthday then add that I’m only six months younger than he is.

Her jaw dropped when I mentioned Jerry’s age, a man she’d only met a time or two. I wasn’t all that surprised she didn’t know how old he was. Then it dropped further when I told her how old I was, which surprised me because we’d known each other for a few years, but apparently she’d thought she was older than I was.

Too often today people are fussing and trying everything they can to look younger. Woman my age are dying their hair to hide their gray. Me? I’m over fifty. I’ve earned what little gray I’ve got and then some.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.