Age is But a Number - Preferably a Slinky Red One
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Age for the older mum can be a worrying concept. It can creep into your mind like a burrowing worm, intent on destruction of the soul, leaving nothing but tears and trauma in it's wake.
If you let it.
The concept of the older mum's age can also burrow like a squiggly, squidgy worm into the still malleable mind of a pre-teen, and cause untold concern.
So, how does one counteract the potential drastic effects of this mean and downright nasty burrowing and squiggly worm of destruction then?
I suppose one could sit down with one's child and explain things in a clear and simple way.
One could say things like:
Son, I know a lot of your friend's mums are ten years younger than me. Children really know how to make you feel good, don't they? But, can they dance hip hop style son? Or high kick their way through a Can-Can routine? I'm sure I still can -can if I really tried. Or can they hold a three hour dance rehearsal with a large group of children and then come home and make your dinner?
Look son, I've no intentions of going anywhere for a very long time and, you should know, I do mostly have longevity on my side. Your Nanny has been very, very ill recently and has since returned to the comfortable surroundings of her nursing home - and been re-named Lazarus. The human fighting spirit and the power of the will to live never cease to amaze. Her Mother, your Great-Grandmother, lived to be 80. My paternal Grandmother lived to the ripe old age of 90 and no-one could ever deny her fighting spirit.
And son my Aunt - your Great-Aunt, but I don't think she'd thank me for that moniker so 'my Aunt' she shall remain - is a very young 70 who loves her aerobic classes and walks everywhere. She's a gal after my own heart and loves a lively night out with music and dancing. On a night out with us last year she and her similarly aged pal received a standing ovation from the very young clientele of a very lively pub! And on our girly Christmas night out her and her fellow septuagenarian friends danced the night away and stayed up as late as the rest of us.
Oh son, I so wanna be like her when I grow up....
And I have to tell you son, when we were on holidays this year and I stayed up to watch the nightly shows that were on in our hotel, I witnessed something of note one night. Well, I thought it was of note anyway....
See, the lead singer did the usual choosing someone from the audience thing to dance with him, thereby encouraging others up on the dance floor. Of course he picked a gorgeous 20 something beauty, stunningly clad in a short, slinky black number. She looked really pretty on the floor and he only had eyes for her.
Which meant that he missed a real personality on the dance floor. That being a similarly slim, donning a form fitting beautiful little blue dress Glamorous Gran who was also sporting a discreet shoulder tattoo and who must have been at least 75 years young. She danced them all off the floor, so she did.
And the silly lead singer didn't even notice her and he chose the same sexy young wan for the next set too, silly man!
You know son, I want to be like that gorgeous tattooed Glamorous Gran too, when I grow up.
And I want to be like the 82 year old lady who apparently attends a country branch of my Curves gym! I hear that she went to Cuba this year for her holidays.....
So you see son, I can't possibly go anywhere anytime soon, I have too much growing up to do.
As do you, my dear boy.
Oh the fun we'll have when we're all grown up, us two.
Just think how proud you'll be of your oul' mum when I take to the dance floor at some celebratory occasion or other of yours - all fabulously resplendent in a little red number, strutting my stuff. I'm sure I'll have remastered it by then, so I'll even treat you and all of your friends to my party piece....
What? You don't think I can do it? Well, I used to be able to. I'll have you know that I was once carried onto the stage in the splits, 6 feet up in the air by 3 hot male dancers!
Don't worry though, I won't embarrass you. I'll be way more glamorous, I'll be all made up and my hair will be fabulous and will be neither permed nor coloured blue.
And you never know , even though personally I'm not into them, I may even stage my very own senior life crisis and be sporting my own discreet tattoo.
Maybe on my shoulder.
Maybe not ;-)
PS: Just so you know, dear reader, a lot of wood was touched during the writing of this post!