I was fine sitting here at my computer all fat and happy reading blogs. Then I decided to go to eBay to look for some glassware. Imagine my surprise when I was looking at the listings and seeing things I remember from my childhood being called "vintage".
This can't possibly be true. I am a cool MawMaw; I like some modern music (you are hearing Cold Play as you read this) and I adore hanging out with my grandkids. I do, however, notice that my bathroom mirror has a new resident who is graying and wrinkled. I cannot imagine where she came from. Maybe I need a new mirror???
Just because I have one grandson who is 20 and two more who tower over me (I can easily fit under their outstretched arms) doesn't mean that I am vintage. Thanks goodness for Clay and Avery; they are shorter than me.
Just because I creak when I get out of bed in the mornings or when I sit too long doesn't mean that I am vintage.
I am thinking that the Medicare card and birth certificate may give me away. Maybe I am vintage, but I will never admit to it.
1 comment:
Very cute post! I remember being freaked out the first time I saw my early bridal choices in antique malls!
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