How I know I am getting old:
1. I RSVP when asked to. I can’t understand why you don’t. What part of Respondez, s’il vous plait do you not understand?
2. Don’t leave a voice mail? I won’t phone you back. I know your number is in my “recent” file. But you could have butt dialed by accident. If you leave a message, I know what you want and will phone you back with an update, not a “so why did you call?”
3. If I send you three times we can meet and you do not reply, I will book others into the spots. If you are surprised that I didn’t hold all spots for you until you make up your mind, you are too young to understand the practicality of time management.
4. If you think posting to my timeline on Facebook is a way to communicate with me about an important, personal subject, we need to talk. Talking is something old people do before texting and tweeting.
5. The answer to “Thank You” is “You’re Welcome.” Not, “No Problem,” because that means you thought I was going to be a problem and you grudgingly changed your mind but had to let me know I was a potential problem.
6. I do not understand, nor care to, the word “Juicy” stitched in bright pink, bold letters, with glitter, across your butt on your too-tight leggings. Whether you are a size double zero or a 2X, I’ve worked really hard on feminist issues like equal pay and you are turning back the clock on my hard work on your behalf.
—Quinn McDonald is beginning to think about the “good old days” and muttering “git off my lawn” at kids.