Ah, the Age Gap

The other day I got a big ol' taste of the generational gap between my mother and I.

We were at a gas station, around 10 o'clock on a Saturday night. That is probably not the best time to refuel, I suppose, and in addition I had parked under a dim light to refuel. Mom got out of the car with me as added protection. I'm not sure what we would have retaliated with, should the situation have become dicey, but hey, it's always nice to have your mom along.

While I was pumping the gas, a car of young, raucous teenage boys drove by and made whistling sounds, in appreciation of the sight of two ladies --dimly lit --alone in the dark. I was thrilled. It had been a thousand years, roughly, since I had become the object of a catcall. It felt good, like I still had it, if I ever had, and I could still be attractive to a teenager who was probably slightly drunk with the glory of teenagers-in-a-group, a heady flavor only acquired while in adolescence or with a newly gained driver's license. (Or if a really great song is on the radio and you're going just a bit too fast, maybe down a hill, and hey, there's a green light at the bottom, do I feel it turning yellow? So you gun it. You know the feeling.)

I blissfully turn to my mother to share this lovely glow and see that she is staring after the car, eyes glowering, arms crossed, lips pursed. She says, in staccato fashion, "Little punks. They shouldn't be out this late...where are their parents?"

She looks at me and a heavy silence falls between us as we stare at each other. We both blink at least twice. Then I giggle, and she laughs in return, realizing that she sounded like an octogenarian on the front porch of her home ranting after a mysterious and horrible smell arose suddenly.

We opened the car doors, got back into our seats, and turned to look at the three-year-old little guy sitting in his car seat behind us. I caught a glimpse of him in thirteen years, staring at chicks under a street light somewhere. I'll make sure he has adequate eye correction before he leaves the house.