Looking a Gift Horse . . .

My Mom always looks like she stepped out of a bandbox. (Isn’t that the old expression?) Color coordinated accessories, every shining white hair in place—people often comment on how beautiful she is. In fact, I have a picture of her in my family photo groupings hanging in the hallway. She was about 19-years-old in the picture and looks like a movie star. One day a young man we hired from one of those carpet cleaning places stopped his machine mid-hallway and said, “Whoaa, who is this?” referring to the picture. “That’s my Mom,” I told him. Not even hesitating to realize that she was no longer the same age as in the picture, he replied, “Next time you see her, tell her I said ‘BABE-O-LICIOUS!’”

Okaaay.

Anyway on one of her visits recently we were walking out of the grocery story when a Hispanic woman sitting in her car in the parking lot called out to Mom, “Oh you look so preeetty today.” Mom can’t hear that well anymore, though she won’t admit it, and kept walking, so I held up my hand, smiled, and started to say, “Wait a minute, she didn’t hear you” when this lady yells, “NO! NOT YOU! Her!”

“Yes, I know,” I said, and retrieved my mother. Mom told the lady of her upcoming 79th birthday and the lady went on and on about how she hoped she would look half that good at Mom’s age. As we got in the car, I said, “Wasn’t that nice?”

“Well she said when she was my age!” Mom huffed.

Wow. How would she have taken the vehement “NO! NOT YOU!”?!