Please say no. I don’t think I do, but lately I’ve started to wonder.
Twice, a golf course attendant has asked if I were a “senior” and, therefore, entitled to a discounted green fee. What! A senior, at least at this course, is defined as someone 60 or older.
I’m 52. I’m almost a decade away from being a senior. I glared at the last punk who asked me.
“No,” I said sharply. “I am not a senior.”
Listen, if I were a senior, I’d be happy to ask for my discount ($8 off a round of golf).
But let me be the one who brings it up. I equate this to asking if a woman is pregnant.
That’s always a bad idea. A little bump in the stomach could just as likely mean the woman eats too much.
Likewise, some guys who are graying and balding (like me) are in their 30s, for crying out loud.
I’m a little sensitive about my age, I think, because I have a young son. Several times, people have asked if my 11-year-old is my grandson.
The first time it happened, I was flabbergasted. The second time, peeved. The third time, resigned to the fact that I’m going to get this question from now on.
Being a single dad presents enough challenges. But being a single dad who looks like a granddad – well, that’s almost too much.
Do you know what I mean? At school functions, I’m often the oldest dad. I’ve had other dads call me “sir.”
I never intended to be a single dad, and I certainly never intended to be an old single dad.
But I count myself fortunate – to still be healthy (at my advanced age) and to have the opportunity to care for a wonderful son.
Being an older dad teaches you to tune out what others may say and focus on the task at hand: being the best father you can be.
If you’re an older dad, don’t compare yourself to younger dads. They have their own challenges. Use your maturity to your advantage. You have unique life experiences that can benefit your child.