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Crow’s Feet Writing Prompt #112
I Look Younger Than I Am
Someday it’ll catch up with me
My grandmother, Baba, toured a retirement community late in life. She’d said it was because she couldn’t reach the items on the bottom shelf of her fridge, which was likely her way of saying she couldn’t take care of herself anymore. Perhaps showering was becoming a problem, or cleaning up after using the bathroom, or even getting dressed.
Whatever the reason, she sat on a chair next to my mom while they waited for someone to give them a tour. Another woman sat across from them and said in a snarky tone, “You need to be 65 to live here.”
“I’m 82,” was Baba’s only response.
So I guess looking younger than my age is in my genetics.
Like her, I’ve been mistaken for much younger. When I joined a writing group a woman across the table asked how old I was. I told her I was 47 and her indignant response was, “No you’re not.” Decades before, I’d taken my boys to the mall to get out of the house. A woman approached me to say I was such a good sister for taking her younger siblings out. I corrected her gently, but she still seemed irritated, as if I’d tricked her or something.
Also like Baba, my hair hasn’t fully turned white yet. I thought I’d go white…
