Great Genes

True story. I am a knitter. What!? We can do other things beside knit.
I also spin yarn. What!?
OK, I am a fiberist. Anyway, I digress.
Once a year we FIBERIST’S, get together for a whole weekend and have loads of fun. Not much sleep, but lots of knitting, spinning, weaving and fiber, fiber, fiber!!!!
This year I had worked my schedule so I could arrive at a decent hour on Friday and leave on Sunday morning. Not to be. My other life as a wife interfered.
I had taken a couple of vacation days so I could get some ‘girly’ things done Friday before I left town like get a manicure. My daughter was to be in school and husband at work. At 7:15 am he is flat on the floor in agony with back spasms and I’m dialing 911. Long story short, I did make it to SPA around 7 pm to hook up with my girlfriend whom I’m sharing a room with.
We unloaded my car and dumped everything in our room then I took a spin around the vendor area to scope out possible ways to spend my cash for the next day.
By now it’s waaay past time for me to eat so we decided to grab a quick bite and drink in the lounge. They had a DJ set up and the music was acceptable to me – early 90’s dance stuff with some newer stuff thrown in but the volume was such we couldn’t hear ourselves talk so we moved to the bar out of the high volume area.
Keep in mind, we are both in our mid-40’s, married, etc. It’s been a long day for both of us and it’s getting past our bedtimes.
So here we are, sitting at the bar with a drink in front of us, checking out the bar menu for food when this young man (he probably was in his late 20’s –early 30’s) can up to us and asked “ Are you ladies alone?”.
I looked at S. and didn’t say the first thing that came to my mind (which was NO! We’re together, you young thing. Go away!) What I did say was “No, we left them at home.” We chatted a couple of more minutes, he got another beer and went back to his table.
I leaned over to S. and said that he probable would be back and I was going to drop the bomb on him if he did.
He did return and I did drop the bomb on him! I forget exactly what he said but it was perfect thing for me to respond with “By the way, you are talking to a grandmother.” The expression on his face – mouth dropped open, eyes widened and I could see the brain cells trying to grasp that word – grandmother.
“You can’t be a grandmother, you are too young. You don’t have enough wrinkles or gray hair!”
(Meanwhile, I can see S. is about falling off the bar stool with laughter). And with a straight face I responded with “I have great genes.”
He said, “ Yes, you do.” And rubbed the knee of my jeans with his finger and walked away muttering a little bit.
S. and I got our food, ate it and headed back to our room. Waiting for the elevator, we looked at each other and starting giggling. Neither one of us had been hit on like that in years! Poor boy didn’t know what hit him!