I am Eighty

moi


 

Oh, that hair color thing that I have been going back and forth on:  "Should I continue dying my hair or not?" I mostly am curious about how I would look with white hair it might be nice but I like the way my hair looks now. Yes, I could try on a wig, it would be easier.
 
Your comments resonated with me, I especially like knowing that we are of that age as they the French say, "Femme d'un certain âge" which is a phrase "used to avoid saying that a person, usually a woman, is no longer young but is not yet old".  We are an interesting, creative, bright a force to be reckoned with. Thank you for your encouragement and for sharing your own journeys with me. I could never stop blogging because I would MISS you too much!
 
 
 
 
moi
 
The other weekend for the umpteenth time someone asked me if Yann was my son? And if that was not enough I was also asked if my friend Camy who is my age was my daughter. At this point, it doesn't even phase me. When the guy asked me I questioned him, "Does her little nose and Yann's jawline look anything remotely like mine?" He thought I was teasing, and added, "But they are your children?" I laughed while shaking my head no. The guy was so embarrassed he kept apologizing, "so are they your younger brother and sister?" I wanted to say, "You are digging a big hole there." But instead, I told him no that Camy was my age and my friend, and that Yann was my husband. He didn't believe me. So I said, "I know I look older than my age and that is all there is to it."
 
Later I was talking to my mom, telling her about how yet again someone thought Yann was my son, "Gee," I said, "If I let my hair go white people might start asking if I am Yann's grandmother or far worse if I am the walking dead."
My mom said, "Yeah, but if you say you are 80 they will say Wow you look great!"
 
I still laugh thinking about what my mom said. I might try that from now on, and if they do not say I look great I might poke their eyes out. 
       

I am Eighty