On Tuesday night my mother and I attended Alyssa’s work holiday party with her. While there, she introduced us, clearly as “Mom” and “Grandmom”, to her co-workers.
Cue the next morning: Alyssa is conversing with a coworker, S.
S: “Which one was your mother?”
Alyssa: “The one with the piercings and short hair.”
S: “Are you sure?”
Alyssa: “Um…yes. That’s my mom.”
S thought I was Alyssa’s sister or perhaps a young aunt, and most definitely not old enough to be her mother. Sweet! I’m 37 years old. I happily took that compliment.