I took The Little Boy to the cafe today and a man who is old enough to be my grandfather called me ma'am. A group of elderly gentlemen was enjoying their morning coffee and chat, and they were blocking much of the sidewalk.
No biggie. I smiled and was about to chirp a cheerful "excuse me," when one of them asked, 'are we in your way, ma'am?'
I can't remember what happened next. I hope I was still smiling and that I said "thank you," but all I was thinking when I rolled up to meet my dad and baby was "fucking scooter, making me look like an old lady! Ma'am. Ma'am!? It's bad enough when I get ma'am'd by a teenage busboy."
Grumble.
The funny thing is that, as long as my gray's are nice and dyed, I actually look much younger than my 39 years.
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