Hello Grandma

Since coming home from work tonight I've been badgered into looking at all the crap my babies bought at the mall with their sisters last night.  The weirdest by far was this beauty:

A wig?  I don't get it.  I like to use my Christmas money on normal things like shoes, clothes, or a striptease from my sexy lover.  I asked Lily if it was an Anna wig from Frozen.  She looked at me like I was a moron and then informed me that the braid in front obviously made it a "new" Cinderella wig... whatever that means.  After treating me like a second class citizen she then bugged me 20 times to try it on to see if I would like it.  Since the little weasel poured me a Diet Cherry Coke, I took a break from painting my back room to humor her while I sipped my beverage.  Here I am:

Lily said, "wow Mom!  You look young."  I asked her what she thought I was without the wig.  "You're getting older."  I then demanded what grandma was if I was "getting older."  Apparantly, Lily thinks she's just plain old.  For a frame of reference, I asked what she and Bubba were.  That would be young and very young.  When I demanded to know how old someone had to be to fit in a particular category it went as follows:

Up to five:                  Very young

Five to 31:                  Young

32-49:                        Getting older

50-71:                        Old

72 like Jared's mom:  Very old

I don't want to be old in 9 years!  Beat it Lily!  But leave the stupid wig behind, I wear young quite nicely...