How the hell old does he think I am?

1 item was a Boots own product, the other wasn't!

Hmm... pretty sure I've never had that bit above Extra Over 60s points.
I'll have to complain next time I visit Boots!
(thanks again, Lona!)

about

I got those over 60s points when I became 60. I think you have to register or something but I can't remember.

Going off the subject off Boots points - I remember going to a church in Lancashire with my DH, who started to suffer from a receding hairline quite young,many years ago. He was preaching and I took my guitar along and sang a song for the congregation.
Afterwards an elderly ( well probabably the same age as I am now!!) lady shook his hand and declared " Eh, yer daughter sings proper nice!"
It made my day!
I've never let him forget it.

When I was recuperating from my hip op, my sister came to stay and there was a constant stream of visitors too. One friend asked if my sister, only 4.5 years younger, was my daughter! She (the friend) was so embarrassed though the two of us had a good laugh. That was the sister who has, even now, very few white hairs by contrast with me and our other sister.

I hadn't had my bus pass for very long, when I was boarding a bus at 07.25, too early to use it. As I was paying the fare, the driver commented on how unfair it was of the bus company to make pensioners pay during peak hours. That shattered any illusion that I might have been clinging to, that I look young for my age!!!

I just had to send for a new driving licence.

Oh dear!

I had the opposite experience recently. Chatting to a woman and she mentioned she had a nineteen year old daughter. "I know," she said "I don't look old enough to have a daughter that age." I had to agree with her, what else could I do.

My DD,a bariatric nurse,sent me the following text recently.
Hello mums! Just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are. My last patient was your age and must have 20 years looks wise on you. You are also very beautiful inside.
I felt a million feet tall!

It's hard to tell if people are being genuine or patronising - not that it matters a jot I too am surprised when the bus driver doesn't look totally astonished that I have a pensioner's pass I had my daughter at 19, so quite young really. Over the years I have been told many times that I don't look old enough to be her mum, obviously this happens less and less now My DD has a friend who is 11 years younger than her and DD has been asked a few times if she is her mum. I wouldn't be happy.

I thunk this morning when I came in from garden bonfiring, took off my shoes and socks and slipped my feet into some crocs that Minibags has grown out of: you know you're getting old when you're youngest child, who was born right at the end of your reproductive lifespan, hands her cast off shoes down to you

Well on the plus side When I visited my DD at the weekend, my granddaughter who is 14 and very particular about what she wears, said 'nan I like your jacket it's really trendy'. I said 'to be honest it's a bit small, would you like it' thinking she would be horrified, having only said it to be polite. She said 'really? Are you serious?' She took it and went of into town with her very trendy friends, wearing the said jacket.

I am not sure what makes me more - young people assuming we are jolly brave for getting to grips with computers (it has been all our working lives for both of us) or older people who say they are too old to learn to use them.
It is probably the latter tbh.

I have to admit that when I was young I assumed old people had always been old and would never have dreamed that they could have had a life. How awful is that? I offered to help my DD with something the other day and she said 'oh I can't have that, I should be helping you'. I said 'why, because I'm 65, do I look as though I need help?' She said 'no'. She, however, is working full-time, taking my DGD here there and everywhere, trying to cope while her DH works away a lot. I would like to help but she won't have it. I am fit and well (fitter than she is actually) but I give up.