So we take Brother Todd out to eat tonight. Head up to Smashburger, one of the best burger joints out there. I’m at the counter, finishing out order, when the guy at the counter says, “You two look a lot a like. You must be his dad.”
I smile at him, nod my head once, then leap over the counter and rip his throat out. With my teeth.
Actually no I didn’t. I found the comment both amusing and depressing. I’m eleven years older than Todd. I have no gray in my long, long hair (though there is white in the stubble on my chin). I don’t look that old.
Well I don’t!
Besides, that wasn’t the worst age mistake that ever happened to me.
Back when Brother Eric was either a Junior or a Senior, I can’t remember which, I went into his high school to let him know we were there to pick him up. At the time he had a part in the school play, and the first person I ran into was a fellow cast member.
On hearing my purpose, this bright lad turns and shouts out, “Hey Wats, your dad is here!”
I’m only one year older than Eric.
Some days, though, I feel much. much too old.