rivka

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from the bus stop. We're having buffalo burgers for dinner, and I needed some buns to serve them on. I also picked up a sixpack of Clipper City (because what are burgers without beer), and a toothbrush, and a box of raspberry fruit-and-grain bars.

I waited in line at the checkout stand with my credit card in my hand. As she rang up my groceries, the cashier asked me, "Have I seen your ID before?"

I looked at her in total incomprehension. She tapped her finger against the sixpack of beer. Light dawned.

"Um. No. No, you haven't," I said, fishing out my driver's license. "Because I'm thirty."

I've been legally able to purchase alcohol for nine years! I have white hairs! I have a Ph.D.! I thought all of these things, but did not say them.

I also thought and did not say: Sheesh. Just when am I going to start looking like a grownup?