The Lunchtime of our Lives

We are talking about old age this morning. Actually, my husband is talking to me. I am staring at my computer instead of making eye contact because I don’t want to talk, but he is not taking the hint. He keeps talking, and so I relent. Have you ever gotten on a subject as a couple and it seems like every conversation winds its way back to that one? Lately we’ve been discussing how in the hell we got so old. It might be brought on by our recent foray into the world of girls’ basketball. Kids whom I saw fresh from their mama’s womb are getting called for a double dribble, tackling other girls, driving for the basket, throwing in layups. Watching these girls do things that I’m not coordinated enough to do feels strange because I realize...

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