I'm a grown up!

I've just had an experience, the second of it's kind in the last three days, and I'd like to publicly set the record straight. What exactly do I need to set straight? My age and maturity. I'm a grown and fully functioning woman. I've completed all four years of high school, and a year or so of college around 10 years ago. I've assisted with running a company bearing my own last name, and I've been married for 9 years (next week) with two children for whom I am responsible. Why then, is it so hard for some people to give me this simple credit of being a real life grown up.

For 20 of the last24 hours, I've had a full on migraine. Thus, after getting Kyla down for a nap, I showered (Hooray for me!) and went to bed with an ice pack on my head. Not long ago Kyla woke up, and I was forced to get up and begin preparing lunch. I hadn't bothered with any effort towards my appearance, and I guess it showed when the doorbell rang. Well, actually there was a friendly little overly peppy knock on the door followed up by the doorbell ringing twice (all this as I'm walking toward the door). I assumed it was the neighbor kids who had likely skipped school feigning an illness hoping to drop by for an icy pop - especially when I saw the individual cupping their hands around their eyes in order to peer through the glass on the side of the door. What I was horrified to come across as I got closer was that it was not the neighbor kids, but rather a young woman. "I don't have a key to this door, so you'll have to meet me around by the garage" I hollered to her (Jim has the key today for the sole purpose of making some duplicates). Assuming it was something related to the recent purchase of our home I went around to meet her, and that's when her abruptness hit me upside the head like a flying cow patty. "Are you the lady of the home?" she asked through squinted eyes and a rather demeaning tone. Refusing to up my anti and play her little game by suddenly acting really mature, I instead went the other direction with it. I paused for a moment looking at her squarely with a slight hint of annoyance and disgust seeping through my eyes. "Ya" I responded curtly. She then proceeded with her sales pitch for some new carpet cleaning company in town and attempted to sell me on having my brand new carpets cleaned so that her boss would help her pay for her college tuition. . . I was altogether too happy to end the conversation with a brief "No thanks" before heading inside. Did she really think I was some teeny-bopper home with my baby sister for the day?

The other situation, even more annoying than the one I just mentioned, occurred on Monday at the airport in Atlanta. We had managed to check our luggage after great confusion and struggle and were heading towards security following the signs and direction of all the airport staff. I was pushing Kyla in her stroller with several carry on items stuffed underneath her seat, and little Jimmy was skipping along with Jim nearby. When we reached the security checkpoint, an airport personnel woman barked out "Are you planning on taking that stroller on the plane?". "Yeeess. . " I answered slowly. "Well the check in for strollers is the other direction" she eagerly informed me; it was almost like she'd been waiting for someone to correct in her harsh little power-trip sort of tone. "It SURE would be nice if everyone around here had the same story because those people right over there told us to come here, and I didn't see any signs for strollers to go another direction" I replied in my best perturbed teacher's voice. "Young lady, you need to turn around and go the other way!" she yelled as I'd already begun walking away. Her ego trip was getting to be a bit much - especially after all I'd gone through just to get to this point - no thanks to the amazing demonstration of chaos and difficulty presented by the Atlanta Airport and Delta. "If ANYone else references me as a 'Young Lady' today, I will not hesitate to punch them. What do I look like? Am I sixteen or something??!" I commented to my husband rather loudly so that all the airport personnel in the area could hear - including her supervisor whom having observed the ensuing drama had proceeded to walk with us where we needed to go; he briefly reamed out the people who misdirected us, and I'm really hoping he gave that maniacal woman more than an earful once he returned.

Maybe it's not so much that people mistake me for being younger than I am as it is that there are just too many rude people in the world who take abnormal delight in looking down on others. Either way, it's annoying. I'm pondering placing a sign out front informing people that there are no teenagers in this house, and not to ring the doorbell OR knock more than once. As for random encounters with high and mighty persons, well, I guess there's not much I can do about that - except to make sure their supervisors know which subordinates of theirs are offending their client base.