When I met Dave at Ricks College, I assumed he was an 18-year-old freshman. Imagine my surprise, even my glee, when I learned that he was actually a 23-year-old returned missionary (read: marriage material).
Mmmm.... He was so cute in that sweater.
But in the last few months, something curious has begun. People are starting to frequently tell me that they are surpised about my age (28) because they expect me to be quite younger.
Dave and I were discussing this the other day as I stood in front of him wearing my American Idols tour T-shirt with my hair in pigtails, wondering why in the world people think I am younger than I am.
You may remember when I was at my cousin's wedding luncheon and the woman across the table was shocked when she saw my wedding ring, because she assumed I was a teenager. And I wasn't even wearing pigtails that day.
That conversation was not good for my grown-up self esteem, because we had already been talking for several minutes when she saw my ring. So, what was it about our conversation that made her believe I was a decade younger than I am? And why, on the phone a few days ago, did the woman trying to sell me a timeshare sound relieved when she learned I was older than 20? And why did the girl selling children's books door-to-door think I looked young to have a child?
This is a new trend, and I think it must be because my hair is getting longer. But I must also have a young-sounding voice.
When telemarketers ask for "the woman of the house" when I answer the phone, I put on my sexy, low radio voice and say, "This is the woman of the house."
And they're the only ones who get to hear my sexy radio voice since I retired it in 2001. Oh, unless someone leaks the video that was taken a few days ago of me reading a newscast about the old woman who swallowed a fly.