New Rule

I have noticed a disturbing trend during the past few weeks. I am at a loss as to how to stop it, nor do I know how to accept the inevitable with grace. It seems like just a few months ago I was respectfully referred to as "Miss" by store clerks and salespeople. During the past three weeks, the cordial "Miss" has been replaced by "Ma'am."

The first time it happened I didn't realize that the clerk was talking to me. I looked around trying to identify whom was being addressed. Then I was called Ma'am again, only louder, and I realized that he was talking to me. Apparently he thought that I was not only old but hard of hearing.

I am not a "Ma'am" yet, am I? I don't feel like a "Ma'am." That salutation is reserved for middle aged and elderly women. I don't feel middle age despite the fact that my driver's license taunts me by revealing that I am 36. I don't want to be a "Ma'am!"

The strange thing is that I have been feeling rather positive about my appearance. I've lost weight, I have a glowing tan and healthy pink looking cheeks. I've ridden over 200 miles in the past week, I've continued with my jogging and I am constantly in motion playing with Robby. I have been feeling more like a "MILF" than a "Ma'am." Yet I keep being referred to by the dreaded M word.

I am not sure what to do to combat the M word, but I'm going to keep trying. I've taken a fresh look at my hair and realized that my roots are visible. When did my hair start turning so grey? Now I have to search for hair color that covers grey hair.

I have noticed that I am spending more time perusing the skin care aisle, searching for something to stop the small little lines I noticed around my eyes when I smile. I have even googled botox on two occasions. It would be a lot cheaper not to smile.

My cute and frilly bras have been replaced by utilitarian looking under garments. I have noted an unfortunate correlation between my increasing age the the amount of support I require from my underwear. I never appreciated my "perky" breasts while I was young. Now I need wires and Lycra in order keep everything in place.

Perhaps I am becoming middle aged. I am not nearly as spontaneous as I was just a few years ago. I decided to make an impromptu visit to my Mom's. It took me 20 minutes to pack for one night. I used to just toss clothes into a bag and go. My overnight bag now bulges with anti-wrinkle products, vitamins, cords for my prosthetic, lotions for my stump and medications.

Even if I accept the fact that I am middle aged, I think that referring to me by the M word is premature. The only time I feel old is when I reminded of my age by well meaning pubescent teenagers calling me Ma'am. As a general rule, I think that women should be referred to as "Miss" until they are in their mid 40's. Of course, I reserve the right to amend that rule in another 10 years.