Not a day over what??

A Friday in Manchester typically consists of coveted sleep, a quick, compact and unfulfilling trip to B & N, followed with an elongated evening of mindless discussion and cellulite enhancing munchies. However, today my plans were thwarted; not in a bad way, but in a different way.

Originally, I had planned on a slow morning before road-tripping to Springfield, Mass to pick up the eldest Belley for a weekend of fun and bliss. With my hair tousled and froed out in an alarming disarray of kinks and curls, I stumbled, scrubs and all, into my dual-party bathroom and tripped over my wide-eyed bath roomie. Of course, the first thing to escape Stephanie's lips was somewhat of a scoff. While laughing at me she inquired, "Do you ever look at the mirror in your bedroom before you come out?" "No." I quickly replied with a drunken grin and sheepish eyes. Who does that?

Time was pressing and Stephanie wanted me to help babysit down at MCC for an hour or so. She buttered me up by insiting that I eat one of her turkey omelets with a side of toast and grapes (which I didn't eat) and the offer of $10. No. I don't want to babysit. I am tired. I want to go back to bed. I don't want to see children, let alone give them my attention. But on the contrare, I NEED MONEY!!! I would be a fool to pass up an hour of babysitting for ten measly dollars! Reluctantly, I accepted her offer and bettered my spirits. I had to be presentable to the children. The kids weren't that bad at all. As a matter of fact, I loved the time I spent with the fish faced monkey lovers. However, conversation with the "adults" did not progress as smoothly as I would have hoped.

Phil Foster called me. He's going to be visiting on Monday and it was essential that I answer his beckoning. I hung up the phone with great relief and explained to the women that he was my mentor. This is where the plot thickens...
"Oh, are you from around here?" One woman innocently asked.
"No, I'm from Illinois," came my reply.
"Still in high school?"
.......silence......
"Uh. No. I'm...aaaa...super senior at Lincoln Christian College." I said in utter disbelief.
"How old can you be?" She asked in confusion.
"22." Yeah, I wanted to say 23, but with the glazed look in my eyes they wouldn't have gone for that.
"Really? I wouldn't have thought you were a day over 15!"

So yeah, I have experienced similar situations. As a matter of fact, until I turned 18 I was regularly handed the children's menu along with crayons at the restaurants. I used to take it as a compliment...cheaper food! And one day, if I ever reach the age of 90 and people assume that I am 84, I'm positive the compliment will seem as such. Until then, I will continue to wonder....