Fountain of youth... or whatever...

"I need to see your ID, young lady."

Someone almost got slapped today.

I know... I know... I should take it as a compliment, right? I don't. It's ridiculous. I'm going to be 32 in a few weeks. I'm not 20, and more importantly, I don't look like I'm 20. My hair is a quarter gray, and I haven't dyed it since before I was pregnant with my now 10-month old son. I'm wearing absolutely no makeup, my hair is pulled back in an out-of-fashion but very useful bun. My glasses are 8 years old and incredibly out of style because my only slightly newer pair met an untimely death due to said son.

My 20-year-old self would be appalled at my lack of fashion.

So here I am, in 3-year-old Target clothes, at the check-out counter, with my son in tow, buying a bottle of wine, and you're going to call me "young lady" and card me. Okay, then. Good for you. You thought you were paying me a compliment.

You weren't.

I'm almost 32 and I don't want to be 20. I've earned those 12 years and have gone through the bumps and bruises that make up venturing into adulthood and figuring out life. How is it a compliment to set me backwards 12 years? Why would I want that? Why does our society want that? No, thank you. Life is much better in my thirties.

So if you needed to card me because you have to card everyone under 40, whatever. I'll play along with your charade, even though you never card my husband who was born on the exact same day as me.

But don't call me "young lady".