Today is FRUMP Day. When my west coast brother shared this with me, I asked him if FRUMP is an acronym for something and he informed me that it stands for Frugal, Responsible, Unpretentious, Mature Persons Day. My husband and I agreed that it seems to be our day for sure. We are all of those things, except maybe mature. Our daughter in law scolded us for goofing around at breakfast in a restaurant recently. When I told my brother this he assured me that we are at that golden age where we can embarrass both our children and grandchildren in public. Speaking of which, we had a delightful, delicious dinner this evening at Casa's with my grandson and his fiancee. We did not embarrass ourselves. No utensils were dropped on the floor, no water spilled; it was a relatively dignified evening with good food and pleasant conversation. No one even pulled out their cell phones except once to share a picture of an adorable new baby nephew. I was brought abruptly face to face with my age though, at one point in the conversation. My grandson's fiancee told us that she and her mother had been antique shopping recently and I asked her what kind of antiques she likes. She replied "Oh, I really like things from the 70s." That's 1970s not 1870s. I'm sorry but things from the 70s don't feel like antiques to me. They are the stuff I've had with me since my first marriage. My daughter and son were born in the early 70s and they're not antiques. I can't wait until she comes to our house for the first time. She's going to love it.
No comments:
Post a Comment