Tag Archives: white hair

Gray Hair Can Only Mean One Thing

fAST FOOD

Last week my husband and I were in line at the drive-thru awaiting our turn to order our fast food dinner when he pointed out that the guy in the truck ahead of us had overshot the microphone and was unable to make his order known to the employee eagerly awaiting it on the inside.  My husband quickly pointed out that the gentleman in the truck had white hair.

“Look at that old guy in the truck,” he cackled, “he drove right past the microphone!  Now he’s going to have to back up!  Watch this…he forgot he put the truck in reverse so he’s going to plow right into me!”  He didn’t.

“You’d better be quiet,” I admonished, “that’ll be you next year.”  Hubby did not want to hear this, though I’m pretty sure he is becoming painfully aware of the fact that he is indeed aging.  We are both aware that we are getting a bit older, and apparently, we are not alone.  At work, I have noticed that the younger people often offer assistance when I didn’t necessarily think that I needed any.  I currently work in a restaurant, and it has become quite commonplace for my coworkers to offer to carry trays, dishes, or other heavy items for me.  Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate their kindness, but sometimes it does make me feel, well…old.  At times it seems to me that my younger coworkers are completely aghast that I’m still alive.

I guess that since I still feel pretty young on the inside, I assume that this youthfulness is apparent to others as well.  I do admit, however, that I spend more time lately trying to look younger.  Hubby does too.  The other day I found him, shirtless, checking out his reflection in the mirror.

“Look at this,” he said, disgustedly, as he pinched the small amount of excess fat around his mid-section, “No matter how much I work out, I just can’t seem to get rid of this.”

“I know,” I replied, “I have the same trouble.  It used to be so easy to just eat what I wanted, and just work it off at the gym, but not anymore.”

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can do?”  He pondered aloud.

“I bought beer.”  I said.  We both laughed.

I had better not come home next week and find a Camaro in the driveway.

old couple dancing