My lovely wife has just hit the quarter of a century mark. That is not old to me by any means, but let me tell you a story:
Not surprisingly I was away from home a lot when I was on active duty. I knew that Beth was going to have some work cut out for dealing with a brand new baby (This is when RJ was first born), and living in a new town. We would talk every other day, or at least when time would allow, to keep each other up to date on the goings on in our lives.
I had been out of town for a couple of weeks when Beth told me that she had met another mother at playgroup, and that they were going to get together sometime and go for a walk (or something like that. C’mon, I am a good husband, but all you wives out there know that we do not listen all of the time.)
I am protective of my wife, especially when I cannot be there with her in person, so I played twenty questions with Beth about this new “friend.” When the question of age came up, Beth answered, “Oh, she’s an older lady.”
OK, so now I am thinking that Beth is hanging out with some 40-something lady. (Again, that is not old by any means, but we a talking relationally here.) A couple of weeks had passed, and as I heard more about this “friend” and I began to suspect that there was no way that she was a 40-something. However, maturity is not always a learned trait. I asked my wife, again, how old her “friend” was and she said that she was 25!
Being twenty-five at the time, I was quite offended. I asked Beth if she thought that, since her friend and I were the same age, I was an older person, too. Beth said that is not what she meant when she said “older” person. I asked her what she did mean, and she would not answer.
Ever since that day, I have been patiently waiting until Beth’s 25th Birthday. Can I officially call her my Old Lady now?
Happy Birthday Beth!