Ouch! That stings.

 I try not to fret about having turned 50 this year.  I figure that, if I don't make it a big deal, it doesn't hurt, and people won't try to make fun of me for it, if they know it doesn't bother me.  (My oldest brother is an exception, but he's about to turn 60, so who's pointing fingers now?)

I faced a bigger issue the other day.  At the grocery store, the cashier asked me, "Are you over 55 years old?"

I suppose she was asking, in case I earned a senior discount.  I suppose that, with half of my face covered by a mask, and with my hair either having fallen out or turned gray, she couldn't see how youthful and vibrant I otherwise appear.

Still, I'm trying to get used to being 50.  Please don't add years to me yet!