Monday, February 8, 2010
i'm talking to a man who one day may hire me for some writing. he says, "so, miriam! what do you do now? are you in school? do you work?"
"no," I answer, "i'm a mother."
he looks shocked. "a mother?" he repeats. "really! how interesting!"
"yeah, i have a three-year-old and a one-year-old at home," i say, with a smile.
his eyes travel to my ring finger where my wedding band is. "oh," he says, "you must be older than you look. i thought you were eighteen."
okay, i know i look young (as does ryan. i think he finally looks like he might be in his twenties now. when ava was first born, i think people suspected him to be a really tall fourteen-year-old) but eighteen? really? should i start wearing some make up maybe?