"Mom, Jake's mom was asking me the other day about you and Dad and I told her you guys were 20 years apart and she said, ooooo...that's just weird. " Kevin chewed his dinner thoughtfully. "Why are people so mean?"
"Oh well. To some people, it is weird sweetie. They just aren't used to the idea of Moms and Dads being that far apart in age."
It's funny how when your kids get older and they finally understand the concept of age, that they notice things like the age difference between their parents. Kevin never noticed before, we were just Mom and Dad. Now? We're fodder for a bit of speculation on the part of his friends and their parents. I don't care, really. The days where I worried about what people thought about John and I died a long time ago.
Thing is, while we don't notice much, other people do, and when they do, it produces some pretty funny results. Usually we stand there completely amused, watching people do one of the following:
a) turn beet red and begin stammering an apology
b) look at us in shock with their mouth hanging open
c) say "Oh I have a friend who married someone much older"
d) if they are a guy, they ask John "so how did you get a hold of her?"
e) if it's a 50 something + divorced woman, they get all huffy and announce that I will be completely unhappy in 10 years.
The funniest moment happened when John was teaching a scuba diving class, and I tagged along to dive as well. Most of the guys in the class were in their 20's, which I also was at the time. We all went out to eat after and crammed into this tiny booth, chatting about the fish and other animals we saw on our dive over pitchers of beer and plates of nachos. I excused myself to the bathroom and left the table.
As soon as I left, the guy that had been my dive partner for the evening turned to John.
"That is great that you and your daughter dive together like that. By the way, she's really cute. Is she dating anyone? I'd really like to ask her out."
The entire table, only seconds before a laughing, beer drinking group of 20-30 something guys, went completely silent. Everyone else there knew that I was not "the daughter" (who in fact was 21 and living in another province at the time) but "the wife". Everyone except the guy who just asked my husband if he could date me.
"Well," John started with a sly smile, "I'm sorry, but that's actually my wife."
A friend snickered, I happened to appear back from the bathroom, and the table roared with laughter as the poor guy looked as though he wanted to crawl under the table. For months afterwards, we'd be scuba diving with the same group of guys every weekend and John's new nickname was "Daddio". The poor guy never lived it down.
So, do we get insulted? Na.
Will we laugh at you as you trip over yourself to apologize for the mistake, and never let you forget it?