Do I look younger? I’m sure I must.
I just spent a glorious evening drinking exotic cocktails with four of my son’s adorable 20-something friends.
Some live nearby and others were back for a visit.
For reasons that still elude me, these youngsters always treat me like a normal (not-so-old) person and even laugh at my jokes.
On a whim, I called, invited them out and the stars aligned, finding us gathered at a crowded bar where I was, by far, the oldest, least hip creature in the place.
It will always amaze me that these kids so graciously make a space in their busy lives to indulge ol’ Mrs. G, but bless their hearts, they do.
I basically feel like one of the witches from “Hocus Pocus” as I shamelessly try to absorb every stray particle of youth that drifts off them like a fine mist.
You know, youth being wasted on the young and all. They are thoroughly enjoying life, which means they are squandering it, as we all did, and I am determined to recycle any of it I can. I’m really hoping osmosis works on this. Out with the old, in with the new.
When I’m in their company, we laugh loudly, they tease me furiously, and I find out what my son in Boston is really doing. I love catching up on their wonderful, meaningful, high-energy young lives and afterward (the cocktails notwithstanding), I smile for days and swear I have more energy.
If I could just find a way to bottle all that joy and sweetness, I could pretty much set the world to rights in a day or two. But for now, I’m not sharing. My picture in the attic really isn’t working very well.
Jean Gillette is a freelance writer who has no faith in anti-aging creams, supplements or serums. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.