I was talking to a daughter and mentioned a mother of teens
who had evidently streaked her hair with Kool-Aid (food dye? Crayola markers?)
in a shade of red not found in real hair.
“Was she single?” my daughter wanted to know.
Hmm. What would be the purpose? To attract a man who wanted
a younger woman? If he wanted a younger woman and you fooled him into thinking
you were younger, what would happen when you got even older? Seems
self-defeating. I, for one, wouldn’t want a man who didn’t want the real me. I seem
to get realer by the minute.
My daughter thanked me for not being one of those women who
tries too hard to look younger. And yes, she meant it in the nicest way
possible, so shut up. She mentioned middle-aged women lusting after significantly-younger
males, women old enough to be the boys’ mothers wearing T-shirts proclaiming Team
Jacob or Team Whatsisname from the Twilight movies. Nope, never occurred to me.
I watched about five minutes of the first movie and then found a book to read.
Some years ago a couple I knew was lying on a beach. The turd
of a husband motioned to a sweet young babe and said, “Why don’t you look like
that?” The wife said, “Because I could be her mother. And you could be her father.” Unbelievably, he’s still married—and
alive.
I remember the day my husband and a group of men were
outside in a tourist town, waiting on the wives to finish shopping. A woman
young enough to be their daughter walked by and when she was out of earshot several
of the men commented on her looks. My husband’s comment? “Wow. Her mother must
be beautiful.”
You gotta love a man like that.
Photo: Doris Ulmann [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
