Phil Riddle
editor@weatherforddemocrat.com
It’s not funny when it happens to you.
My sweet mom has always been very aware of her appearance. A beautiful lady, she is reluctant to leave the house without her hair coiffed and her makeup perfectly applied. Her wardrobe has always been up-to-date and impeccably matched with the latest accessories.
And like the rest of us, she does not enjoy the prospect of getting older.
She took a trip several years ago to visit my sister in Birmingham. The two of them had a wonderful dinner then decided to take in a movie. Since my mother had bought dinner, my sister was set to spring for the movie tickets.
“One adult and one senior,” said my sister, hoping to save a hard-earned buck at the box office window,
“I’ll buy my own #@%$ ticket,” my mom screeched, upset at the prospect someone would think she was eligible for the AARP discount.
We have laughed at Mom ever since for what we perceived was her vanity.
But it’s different when it happens to you.
On a recent weekend jag to the Metroplex, my wife and I decided to stop for a light lunch.
We sat down and had a delightful repast and were headed back to the car when I glanced at the receipt for our meal.
“We got 10 percent off our lunch,” I said.
“For what?” my wife asked.
“Does it matter,” I asked, smiling.
My smile faded faster than the bubble boy family’s hopes of lasting fame when I read, “Sr. disc. - 10%.”
“Wait a minute,” I snarled, “I’ve got a few years to go before I can get that discount.”
My wife was laughing uncontrollably at my response to the senior discount, given so cavalierly, and, more importantly, completely without merit.
Feeling embarrassed and suddenly very old, it dawned on me.
I should have accepted the thought without comment. Just swallowed it.
I should have smiled at my giggling spouse and attempted to salvage the rest of the weekend.
I should have ... but I didn’t
“Wait,” I said smugly, “We both ate lunch. Maybe the senior discount was not meant for me.”
By the time the final syllable had left my lips, I was becoming painfully aware of my marital faux pas.
“So you think I look older than you?”
How do you answer that question without an attorney present.
“My client declines to answer that query on the grounds it might incriminate him and lead to long periods of stone-cold silence and sleeping in the den.”
After a very short conversation, which included a heart-felt apology, I admitted I did look old enough to get the discount and she did not.
As a codicil to that conversation, I have also agreed to update my wardrobe, color my hair, stop driving for extended periods with my left blinker on and stop eating anywhere that offers discounts for senior adult diners ... at least until I’m eligible.
