Don’t Treat me Like I’m an Old Lady – I’m only 50! Cheap Date Night and more oldster fun!

I’m 50.

I admitted it quite freely, even in spite of the gasps of “noooo!” and “not possible!”s….because, well duh. I am. Born in 1962, it’s now 2012. I don’t make this kind of stuff up.

So, when I got treated as an “elderly woman who needs help”, I possibly went a bit overboard.

First, I didn’t need help. Those damn Rubbermaid containers treat static electricity like it’s the new Velcro. WHY, may I ask you, does Walmart see the need to stack Rubbermaid containers, already known for their stick-toit-tiveness, at least 15 high?

This is just a plot to unearth helpless little old ladies.

(Of which I have no intention of being one)

So there I was, unsuspectingly holding what appeared to be 30 Rubbermaid containers (30 gallon size) in my hands, trying to shake the top one loose. I have too many shirts ( as if! Does anyone want to explain to DH why NO ONE ON THE PLANET EARTH can have too many shirts????) and was attempting to box up a few.

So I shaked. And shimmied. And wiggled. And then I tried getting the boxes apart. Damn things weren’t coming apart for love nor money.

Over my left shoulder I hear breathing. Followed by “May I help you, ma’am?”

May I tell you, few things rile me faster than someone calling me ma’am?

I’m sure you’ve heard it once or twice. A nice boy taking out your groceries. Someone loading lumber for a deck. And suddenly, you’re in shock. You’ve just been ma’amed.

Life as you know it has now changed. You have reached the “elderly status”.

This can happen when you’re 25, 34 or even 84. Doesn’t matter. There it is, hanging over your head like Damocles sword. (If you’re old like me, you’ll understand what that means. If not, Google it.)

Anyways, back to the nice young man. He was in his early 20’s, wearing the uniform of someone who serviced tires and other things I Don’t Understand in the vehicle bay. His hands were outstretched, determined to help me separate those cursed Rubbermaid containers.

I should have been grateful.

Instead, I was insulted. Miffed, even.

It didn’t happen on purpose. I swear. I double dog swear. He lifted the boxes, and two were stuck together at the top. So I said, “Two is fine, I’d love to have two.” And proceeded to tug on the boxes, to get the two free.

“Ow,” he said. “Um. Ow, ow, ow.”

I struggled mightily, trying to find the source of his discomfort. Two boxes, the rest lying on the floor. I tried pulling the second box from the first. “Ow!” His pained face swam into my vision. “Ow! Ow!”

Okay, so this wasn’t going well.

Concentrating on the bottom Rubbermaid, I finally saw the source of his pain. Four fingers were squished, like a Panini Sandwich from Barnes and Noble Food Court, between the two containers. And by me tugging on the two containers, I was squishing them more. Oy.

“Oh,” I said. “Wow, that’s gotta hurt.”

The more I tried to separate the boxes, the further I pinched his fingers. Catch-22. Finally, they sprang apart.

Okay, so I’m no Mother Theresa. I didn’t bandage his wounds, didn’t offer much in the way of sympathy, because now I felt old AND stupid. I did apologize, because my mother did raise me to be polite.

I don’t need help. I can do it myself. I’ve got it. How many times have I said those in the past few months? A lot.

And yet, he made me feel like I’m heading for the nursing home.

And what does any of this have to do with cheap date night? Not one thing. Just something I had to get off my chest. So, to the young man who’s fingers I pinched, I apologize. That really did have to hurt.

Now let’s eat.

Low Calorie Good for You But Still Tastes Wonderful Salad

iceberg lettuce
mandarin oranges
baked or a rotisserie chicken
dressing of your choice. I used fat free Dorothy Lynch and it was AWESOME.

Heat your oven to 350. Toss a handful of almonds on a baking sheet and bake about 10 min. They should be nice and extra crunchy. (ok, so this is SO NOT the fiasco of the flaming nuts – much easier, trust me!)

While those are cooking, tear the iceberg lettuce into bits and mix with the spinach in a big bowl. Open a drain a small can of mandarin oranges, toss on top. (Don’t you love easy recipes like this?) Chop your radish and cucumber into bite size pieces, toss in the bowl. When the almonds have finished, add those in as well and give it all a jumble. If your chicken isn’t still warm, nuke it for 30 seconds or so, put on top of your portion of salad, and decorate with dressing. Simple, but an excellent salad, full of protein.

Smart Ass Romance - Bottums Up - Fun Drink RecipesAnd since we’re being so good on the food front, here’s a nice low calorie drink to go with!

Peach Sparkler

D’Asti sparkling wine
peach schnapps

In a tall glass add 1 shot of the peach schnapps. Fill the glass with half lemonade and half wine. Sip and enjoy.

And on to the movie portion! Pull up a comfy chair and watch my absolute favorite Bugs Bunny classic.

4 Responses to “Don’t Treat me Like I’m an Old Lady – I’m only 50! Cheap Date Night and more oldster fun!”

  • Ohhh, Lettuce…. Can’t wait to have lettuce and spinach again in my diet. Instead I get sweet apples that look more like artichokes, Soursop, and Breadfruit. Now the fresh mangos and pineapple I would miss.

    Old, huh… Can’t say I’m ever going to go there, but be grateful someone still shows respect, whatever your age. That’s my philosophy and I’m sticking to it. I did say I was never growing old, just gaining more respect.

  • Ohmygawd! You are too frikkin funny. That poor boy (and I’m going to call him a boy because I’m almost as old as you and he called you ‘ma’am’). Did he really need bandaging? Poor, poor boy.

    That salad sounds delish. I’m putting the ingredients on the list as soon as I’m done here then I’m going to the store. On a warm day like today, it’s what’s needed for dinner.

    • No, he didn’t need bandaging….they were just a little smooshed. I felt bad though, that whatever I tried to do to free him, made it worse!

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