Marriage on the Brain Part 1: 21 is Old

Me, just doing my thing, being the coolest babysitter ever for three boys.

Ages: 3, 5, 10

We were playing basketball (see? I'm so cool!) but paused for a brief meltdown and snack. 

Meltdown: 3 year old over his lack of points.

Snack: 10 year old (now referred to as T) to kill the time during the meltdown.

Well, T goes to open one of those snack-bags of Goldfish (good choice, T, good choice), but the bag pretty much EXPLODES and orange fish go flying. 

I, of course, bust up laughing.

The younger boys stop to look at the strewn Goldfish (stop genocide now!) and also look at their turned-crazy babysitter. And I just keep laughing. T looks slightly upset, slightly amused, then bends down to start gathering those poor crackers.

I walk over to join him. As we're scooping up fish with the little guys "supervising", T asks me one of my most-hated questions:

"How old are you?"

I respond the way I usually do when kids ask me this (horrible) question, "How old do you think I am?"

"19."

Well, that was better than 16 or 17, which I can still easily pass for. "Nope."

T glances at me, goes back to the fish clean-up. "20," said with confidence.

At least he's headed in the right direction. "Nope."

"18????" Guessed in utter confusion and disbelief.

"NO!" Seriously? Yuck.

"Higher?"

Whew. "Yes."

"21?!?!?!" Big eyes, shocked expression.

"Yuuup." I figured he was surprised since most people think I look so young. Remember how I can pass for a high schooler? But no, T then says the worst thing he possibly could:

"AND YOU'RE NOT MARRIED?!?!?!"

Thanks, T, thanks. I'm so glad to know that the 10 year olds of my world think I am an Old Maid at the ripe age of 21. 

I'll just go back to my cat and knitting now. Maybe I'll watch some Glee later, gotta live on the edge, ya know.