This weekend, I had what you could call a “senior moment.” For once, it had nothing to do with not remembering anything. Instead, it involved being given quite possibly the most interesting backhanded compliment I’ve ever received.
Here’s how it went down. We were outside a friend’s house on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Within our circle of conversation was a very nice lady and her mother, who had flown in a few days earlier from out of state to see her grandchildren.
As the conversation continued, I became increasingly aware of the fact that the lady’s mother was intensely staring at me. It got to the point where I’d notice that if I’d move my head to the side – even for a split second – she would actually mimic my movements and do the exact same thing.
I was literally just in the process of telling myself that this was all in my head because I clearly was NOT that interesting, when the woman let out a loud, “That’s IT! I’ve GOT it now!”
Now thoroughly confused at the strange My Fair Lady reference, I looked at the woman and waited for whatever she was about to say to me. Perhaps there was a bug on my face. Or maybe I forgot to wipe off the grease from one of the 50 ribs I had just inhaled. Could I have scratched myself and blood was now cascading down my cheek? Or did I put my shirt on backwards this morning? Anything was possible.
“I’ve been trying to figure out who you look like for the past 10 minutes and I’ve finally got it!” she proceeded to say. “You look exactly like… Lynda Bird Johnson! I see her all the time and YES, you look JUST like her!”
Now, I am no history buff, but I vaguely knew that we did at one point have a president named Lyndon B. Johnson, so I silently patted myself on the back for piecing together that this woman and that man were probably related. I also felt pretty confident in saying that Lady Bird Johnson (his wife) was no longer living, which led me to the next logical assumption that this woman was probably talking about their daughter – or maybe even their granddaughter.
That was basically where my knowledge ended, so I was very grateful when the woman decided to keep going. “Yes, yes, you definitely look the same. I see her often where I work and I can confirm it.”
I politely murmured a simple “is that right!” and made a mental note to Google who this person was that evening. Unsatisfied with ending the conversation there, however, the woman (who, mind you, was actually extremely chipper and kind, so this wasn’t malicious in any way) continued by saying, “Yes, child! That woman is a FORCE! She’s 78 years old, but doesn’t look a day over 65!”
Not exactly knowing how to respond to the fact that this woman had just told me that I resembled someone who was nearly 40 years older than I actually am, I sort of just stood there for a moment before saying the only thing that came to mind, which was, “thank you.”
Now there is a certain degree of raggedness that I think people expect once you become a mother. The combined factors of sleeplessness, constant worry and a never-ending feeling that whatever choices you’ve made throughout your day were miserably wrong DO take their toll on a person’s physique. But even if this reminder came from a very nice grandmother from out of state, I still think I’d have preferred to have left that conversation about two minutes earlier…
If anyone needs me, I’ll be busy researching plastic surgeons.