THERE'S A MUG FOR THAT

Like, Oh My God! Don't Have A Cow!

“Forty years!” my husband exclaimed as he paced around the house, eyes glued to his iPhone screen.

I was sitting at the table, and each time he passed, he became more and more animated.

“No way! That can’t be him … text me a picture!”

From what I could piece together, his little brother was texting him from the restaurant that was hosting his 40th high school reunion. My husband was amazed that nobody looked the way he remembered them. He has this uncanny ability to believe he still looks exactly the same as he did forty years ago.

And I have to tell you … he almost does. It drives me crazy. And it doesn’t help that everywhere we go, people greet him with, “Wow, man, you haven’t changed a bit!”

Nobody ever says that to me. In fact, I’ve started wearing my work name tag everywhere I go. That way, when I run into people and they don’t recognize me, we are both saved from an embarrassing moment. I just don’t have it in me to let it go. When I recognize someone right away—full disclosure, I didn’t say I remember their name, but I recognize their face—they usually respond with, “Nice to meet you.”

I can’t help it. I ALWAYS come back with something like, “Actually, we went to school together.” Why do I do that?

Maybe this is a sign that I need to embrace the fact that my appearance has changed over the years. Recently, I proclaimed that I would be my own health and wellness advocate. There would be no more blaming my lack of an official diagnosis to explain why I’ve gained ten pounds, not to mention that it takes me an hour every morning to get moving.

Maybe I should just get comfortable with my new look …

Heck no! If my husband can look the same as he did in high school, so can I!

So, I dug out the photo albums. As I flipped the pages, I realized I didn’t want to return to the blue eyeshadowed, big haired Madonna-wannabe that was my style in high school. Page after page of pastels and geometric patterns—and don’t forget the bangle bracelets! In almost every shot, I had bangles stacked up from my wrist to my elbow! I definitely embraced the eighties fashion. No wonder people don’t recognize me. I don’t recognize me!

And I noticed something else. There were some great eighty-isms written in the margins next to each photo—Gag me with a spoon! Like, oh my God! Grody to the max! Don’t have a cow!

How great is that?! I remember saying all those things! I may not want to bring back my neon green headband and leg warmers, but I’ve come up with a great idea. I’ve told you about my daily coffee habit, but I may not have told you how much I love mugs with sayings on them.

So rather than dressing the part, I can use the mugs to express my retro vibe.

Because I’m sure there’s a mug for that.

Photo by Alex Hawthorne on Unsplash