"Sorry, all EFY kids need to use the stairs," she said authoritatively with a finger pointing me to the other side of the building.
"Uh, I'm actually a student," I reply while awkwardly pointing to my empty wrist, not sporting a colorful band, for evidence.
She offers a half-hearted apology, "Oh, sorry, you're fine then, go ahead."
"Thanks," I mutter, overly annoyed, probably more than I should be.
I've been dealing with this problem my entire life. Once, while on a vacation to the east, we made friends with a school teacher. She told me that she loved guessing how old kids were and that she prided herself of the fact that she was so good at it. She said she was almost never wrong. She gave it a shot and guessed that I was going into 4th grade. I was going into 8th. Just last year on my 19th birthday my grandma told me that I looked like I was 14 years old. Ouch. My mom keeps telling me that someday I'll appreciate it, that I'll be grateful that I look so youthful. She's always right about things like that, so I guess I'll trust her. But I have a feeling that 'someday' isn't going to be for a long, long time.
It's ok Stace. I got told a couple months ago I look like I'm 15 or 16. We will laugh at everyone else when we are 40 and look like we're 30 :)
ReplyDeleteweird, i totally had that same 4th grade/8th grade mix up happen to me school shopping once!
ReplyDeleteHA, HA. i LOVE this. One day, you will be grateful. Promise. I'm loving the fact that I'm 25 and still get people thinking I'm barely out of high school.
ReplyDelete