Eddie turned 48 today. Last night, while he was still 47, he told me I "don't act my age." Fifty year olds are often seen as stuffy and dowdy, so I understood this to be a compliment. He fell even deeper into my good graces when he told me I "don't look my age" either--bless him. His declaration was music to my ears. He totally won me over when he said I look "significantly younger."
I liked the ring of "significantly younger." I thought he might be "the one." Floating on the clouds, I dared to hope he thinks I look like I'm 40--or if I'm honest, and really daring--35! His next sentence burst my bubble, and brought me back to reality with a harsh crash. "You only look like you're 46." Forty-six!!! That's much closer to fifty than I care to admit. And it's an eternity from thirty-five. Guess he's not "The One" after all. (Breathe Eddie, you're off the hook!)
Sputtering "thank you" and "oh, how sweet," in a valiant effort to hide my disappointment, I compiled a mental list of every thick, heavy duty wrinkle cream on the market. Sadly, I realize I must be getting old--and mentally slow--because the real meaning of this conversation did not reveal itself to me until today.
Let's revisit High School Geometry, shall we? Where, once upon a time, we learned to prove complex theorems and mathematical equations.
I'm fifty. I look "significantly younger" to my 47 year old friend--to him, I look like I'm a mere 46 years old. We can therefore assume "significantly younger" than fifty is 46. If forty-six is "significantly younger" than fifty; it stands to reason the reverse side of that statement is also true--fifty is significantly older than 46. Are ya still with me? Forty-six is one less than 47, and as you will recall, Eddie is 47. Therefore, using my astute critical thinking skills, I have deduced that while Eddie says I look significantly younger, he actually thinks of me as being "significantly older!"
Slathering on the thickest, heaviest-duty, wrinkle-reducing night cream in my medicine cabinet, I'm wondering if "not acting my age" is a compliment after all...
Slathering on the thickest, heaviest-duty, wrinkle-reducing night cream in my medicine cabinet, I'm wondering if "not acting my age" is a compliment after all...