Mama-Come-Lately

Does this haircut make me look old?

Because last week, a nun flat-out called me my baby’s grandma. And I’ve been told I have nice skin, and I was not dressed in old lady clothes. So surely it must have been the haircut.

As background: In celebration of Baboo’s 18-month birthday, we delivered thank-you snacks to the nurses who took care of us when he was born. I had meant to do this earlier but never got around to it, so I decided to make an occasion of the day.

So we went into the (rather Catholic) hospital with our snacks, and the nurses got all happy, and I got a little weepy, and we were standing around chit-chatting, and up walks a nun. (Sadly, she was not in full habit. The story would be better if she had been, but no, she’s a modern nun and the only way to tell she’s a sister is her name tag.) I explained why we were there, and she leaned over the baby and cooed, “Aren’t you lucky to have such a nice grandma?”

I’d like to say I pondered my response, but I didn’t. It just popped out, albeit with laughter. “Actually, I’m his mom.”

That poor nun. I’ve never seen someone say so many nice things so quickly to try to fix a verbal blunder. I did not tell her she was the first person to stab my ego to bits with that assumption, because A) I like nuns and B) I try really hard to be nice, generally. I assured her I wasn’t offended, and that I knew it was inevitable given the color of my hair.

It seems inevitable that this will happen again no matter how chic my coif is, because I love my grey hair and do not plan to color it again, ever. Also, people are quick to judge and not necessarily well-filtered when they speak. I’m steeling myself for that, but in the meantime I’ve had it cut into something more youthful. (Nikki Wright, y’all, is the business.)

So if I get called “grandma” again soon, I guess I’ll just have to start wearing skinny jeans and, um, whatever the teenagers are wearing these days.