Now BEFORE I START THIS BLOG, let me preface:
* I do NOT think I'm old.
* I do NOT want to offend anybody.
* This blog is for COMEDIC PURPOSES ONLY. (Yes, it did happen.)
Now you may continue on with your regularly scheduled blog-reading.
I finally got back together with my new employers for work. I had to take Natty and a friend to the barn for horseback (the barn that's 40 miles away...that I have to, literally, drive 6 cities away to reach...the barn that sits in the middle of nowhere but still has an internet signal (yes!)...yeah, that barn). I surrendered control of the radio to Natty's friend, who is also 12 but looks and acts like she's going on 17. Rap music blasted at full blast! The whole way! Woohoo!
After, oh, thirty continuous minutes of Li'l John or Romeo or whoever the heck it is, I tenatively ask if we can change the channel.
"Sure!" she chirps.
I close my eyes and say a quick prayer that she is an NPR fan..."Think" is on, and I like that show. Eh, no such luck. She hits Justin Timberlake's "Sexyback."
"OHMYGOD. This song is, like, SO OLD," she screams.
It's ... it's like a YEAR old.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "Honey, you don't know what OLD is. I remember when BRITNEY SPEARS was dating Justin."
Natty's friend slowly turns down the music.
They look at me in awe and wonder.
"How old ARE you???" Natty's friend asks.
"Old," I reply.
And in that moment, I felt it. Oy vey. I am old. I should have kept my mouth shut, too.
"Yeah, and I even remember Princess Di's death," I add.
"Who's Princess Di?" Natty asks.
Oh, man. I'm an old fart. I really am.
Holy CRAP--is this a gray hair?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
I'll be back later. I'm going to go buy some damn hair dye.