Us Old People Need Something To Do

My web designer and I have been working on this site for awhile and I’ve managed to keep it totally secret from my family, which hasn’t been easy because they are really nosy people. Especially my seventeen year old twins who get on my computer and surf the net for hours looking at every truck with big wheels that promises to squirt black billows of pollution in the atmosphere. It’s not that they really care what I do when I’m not doing their laundry, cooking for them or sitting at one of their two thousand ballgames every season (which I thoroughly enjoy), it’s just that my email isn’t password protected and so if it pops up, they are going to read it. I’m okay with that. I have nothing to hide (my sons call it having a boring life). So even though Char (my web designer/friend/email buddy) and I have been discussing this for awhile, my inner circle had no clue.

Yesterday I made the decision to pull out the rusty trusty trumpet, blow the horn, and announce the birth of NanaHood.com  My husband was supportive. My daughter was enthusiastic. The twins said, “Cool. Can we have $24 to go play golf?” But it was son #2s comment that’s got me still simmering and working up to a boil.

“That’s nice,” he said. “Old people need something to do.”

Even though my frying pan was within arm’s reach I resisted the urge to bang it over his head; mainly because he’s 22 years old. A boy in a man’s body and even though he THINKS he knows EVERYTHING, he doesn’t.

I am not one of those women who freaks out about her age. I’m 53 and just happy as rooster in a hen house to be here. You can announce my age on the local call in radio show and have everyone pat me on the back because I’m as good as gold. You can stick 53 candles on a cake and sing to me in a restaurant (as long as it’s not the Mexican restaurant. They smash a pie in your face) Age is relative and really not important, but when you throw everyone over 40 into a pile and label them “old people who need something to do.” Then I have a problem.

Like I said, I’m still simmering.When I reach the boiling point I may say “You knucklehead. Follow me around for a day and see if I need something else to do!” But I probably won’t because when you are 22 and looking at life it seems like the other side of 40 is light years away.

It’s not of course. The years fly by faster than the scenery outside my van window. One day son #2 will realize that, but until then I’d better get busy. It’s Saturday. My granddaughter is here for a visit and she wants to play restaurant. Thank goodness because I was worried I wouldn’t have anything to do.