It's Getting Old ... But I'm Not
This might not seem like much, especially to those of you who know I'm 27. Why would I want someone to think I look OLDER than I am?
Because four weeks ago I went to get my ears pierced and the 19-year-old behind the counter asked me if I was 18, then looked at Dave and said, "Oh, that's why you brought your dad." Then, she carded me.
That was not the first time someone has thought I am Dave's daughter. He's 29, people. He didn't even rob the cradle. People always look shocked, SHOCKED, when I tell them I've been married for over six years; like I was some sort of freaky 12-year-old bride or something. Maybe I need a haircut. Or maybe I should cover my face with gobs of makeup. Or I could start using the tanning beds; get a little premature aging going. I'm just about ready to do whatever it takes to stop being asked for my I.D. at R-rated movies.
It's getting old, although apparently, I'm not.
