I Am Old
So. Had a bit of a shock the other day when Ms. Four drew a picture on her Magna-Doodle (see below).
Totally without thinking, I said, "Oh! Neat phones!"
I got A Look, the disparaging sort of Look only a four-going-on-fourteen-year-old can administer.
"They're not phones," she said, disgusted. "They're people in houses."
Upon closer inspection, I realized that, indeed, the "phones" had arms, legs and eyes.
"Well, yes, of course!" I said, trying to save my dignity. "I see! People in houses! Of course! How could I have missed it."
More Look.
It was clear Ms. Four was NOT seeing how I made this bizarre mental leap. I decided an explanation was in order. "It's just that from over there," I said gesturing vaguely towards the other end of the room, "they looked like phones."
Yanno, like this:
Ms. Four glanced at the cordless, push-button phone standing upright in its charger. More Look.
"Old-fashioned phones," I added hastily. "You know, the kind they had way back when..."
At this point The Look became positively withering, which didn't matter a bit because what I had just said was now sinknig in to the poor, beleagured brain.
Old-fashioned. Old. Fashioned. Yeah. The "phones" aren't so much "old-fashioned" as they are what they had when I was a kid.
To make matters worse, they now sell these things as "antiques" on eBay. Sheesh. I'm ancient.
Totally without thinking, I said, "Oh! Neat phones!"
I got A Look, the disparaging sort of Look only a four-going-on-fourteen-year-old can administer.
"They're not phones," she said, disgusted. "They're people in houses."
Upon closer inspection, I realized that, indeed, the "phones" had arms, legs and eyes.
"Well, yes, of course!" I said, trying to save my dignity. "I see! People in houses! Of course! How could I have missed it."
More Look.
It was clear Ms. Four was NOT seeing how I made this bizarre mental leap. I decided an explanation was in order. "It's just that from over there," I said gesturing vaguely towards the other end of the room, "they looked like phones."
Yanno, like this:
Ms. Four glanced at the cordless, push-button phone standing upright in its charger. More Look.
"Old-fashioned phones," I added hastily. "You know, the kind they had way back when..."
At this point The Look became positively withering, which didn't matter a bit because what I had just said was now sinknig in to the poor, beleagured brain.
Old-fashioned. Old. Fashioned. Yeah. The "phones" aren't so much "old-fashioned" as they are what they had when I was a kid.
To make matters worse, they now sell these things as "antiques" on eBay. Sheesh. I'm ancient.
Comments
I learned long ago to always say "Wow, what a great picture. Tell me about it..." because I almost always got it wrong when I guessed (or "knew") what they were.
And I gotta tell you - nothing makes you feel old like a 5th grader who thinks he's cool and knows you're not.
And the 'tell-me-about-it' tactic is a keeper. I should have thought of it myself but it's hard to think when the 8-month-old is yanking at your nose (or whatever else she can get her hands on these days...). I will for sure remember it next time.
Oh - and does it help that I think of those as the standard phone shape as well? We can be old and uncool together, 'kay?
When I think phones, I think of the Princess phone...