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For the past week and a half or so, I’ve been resorting back to my solo living ways. Jeff has been working 10-hour days with no weekends off for the past week and a half, leaving Jac alone for dinner. As much as I’ve found that I enjoy cooking for two, cooking for one is just silly, so I’ve been eating out a lot.

Yesterday, I found myself with a hankerin’ for, of all things, mall Chinese food. Here, they call it “teriyaki chicken,” while my 16-year-old self knows it’s “bourbon chicken.” And here, they put these green things called “vegetables” in it. But basically, yeah, it’s the same no matter where you go.

Completely unappetizing, I know. But delicious.

After snapping a pic of my food (see above) and texting it to my bestie — the gal who used to eat her bourbon chicken and then go back for a second helping, it was THAT good — I wandered the mall for a bit.

As I passed Aeropostal, there was a giant “70 percent off” sign in the window that caught my eye. As a gal who pays full price for nothing, I wandered in.

Now, I have not stepped foot in Aeropostal for about a year. The last time, I was with a friend of mine who happens to be 10 years younger (I used to babysit her and her siblings, and now, her family is my family). So going into the store with an 18-year-old, I didn’t flinch.

Going into the store solo, as an almost-30-year-old, however, was an entirely different story.

For one, there’s that ridiculous juniors sizing I had almost forgotten about.  I’m an 8/10 in normal-people sizing, so I figured in juniors, I’d be an 11/12. I found a pair of cute straight-leg khakis and grabbed my size. The legs fit over mine perfectly. The waist, however … let’s just say the gap above my tush was so big, I could stuff both my arms down the back of my pants up to my elbows.

Tell me … do you know ANYONE whose bottom half is built like an upside-down isosceles trapezoid? Or, rather, like this:

I’m sure this body shape exists, but I tell you, it’s not common, not even in the Midwest, where we think pumpkin pie is a vegetable and putting chili on spaghetti is a good idea (it is, by the way).

When I put the khakis back, I looked around, and … oh gawd … I was the oldest person in the store.

No, scratch that … I was the oldest person WITHOUT A TEENAGE DAUGHTER in the store. Jesus Christ, these people must have been looking at me going, “Who’s that hag?” (Sung to the tune of Madonna’s “Who’s That Girl?“)

Naturally, I went home after that.

(In case you’re wondering, the first two times I felt old are 1. When Anthony, an older brother of Stephanie, graduated from high school and 2. When my dad turned 50.)

Is this a common phenomenon? Have you had this “Oh wow, I feel old” moment? If so, what triggered it?

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