I saw a former student of mine in the grocery store yesterday. I had no makeup or jewelry on. Just a little boy as my sole accessory. My student from back in the day said, “Wow, you look so young!”
I told him I was turning 36 tomorrow (that’s today, if you’re following me), and that his comment was very much appreciated. He seemed to like me saying he looked grown up.
Today an 80-year-old man hit my car in a parking lot while I was trying to adjust a borrowed car seat since my husband took ours to work. It was just a tap, but my son was sitting in the driver’s seat and I was already in tears over a missed appointment (which I’ll still have to pay for. And it was supposed to make me feel better!) My face was already tear-stained and flushed as pink as my shirt (put on not because pink flatters me but in an attempt not to be grumpy about my birthday), and I’m afraid I was none-too-gracious with the old man, who could not be bothered to carry an insurance card (or to apologize since he didn’t see any damage).
How is it that my toddler, currently prone to fits of drama over the most innocuous-seeming, random details, managed to stay calm through my sobs, only asking in the calmest of voices, “Why are you upset?”