Ahh remember the days of being ID’d at the supermarket? I do. They are all too fresh in my mind and unfortunately just a fond memory now. Sometimes I get the occasional pity ID but only if I’m with the Blonde Kiwi who is forever youthful and frequently greeted with shocked looks when people see he’s actually pushing 30.

For me on the other hand, the good times lines have broken out across my face and it’s official, I look like a real grown up. Thankfully on the inside I can be as young as I like. Little do those check-out people know that even if I look like a working professional with life goals and responsibilities, all I really want to do is eat icecream for dinner and stay up really late on a school night.

It’s not just a supermarket phenomenon now though. This proper adult persona has extended to children. In the past few months there have been several incidences where kids have made me really feel my age.

Incident one: Waiting in line to board a flight back at the airport I felt a strange tugging at my trousers. I looked down and there was a small child caressing my leg so quickly looked around for the owner and found a mortified father who whispered urgently ‘that’s not mummy’ to the now traumatised little guy and swiftly removed him from my person.

Incident two: On my run to the gym (let’s not get excited and think I’m hardcore, it’s literally a 1 minute run away) I jogged past a father and his toddler. The toddler caught sight of me, pointed excitedly and yelled ‘MUM!’ so it must have looked really weird when I blanked the family and continued running.  

Incident three: Now this one is slightly odd. I was on a tram in Budapest when an adorable little girl started staring at me and uttering as much English as she could remember. After a few minutes of conversation about how old she was it was coming up to our stop. When she realised that we were to part she rushed up to me and said quickly under her breath ‘I want to hug you’ so after assessing from her family that it was actually ok I obliged and got off the tram quite bewildered by the whole experience.

I suspect that my hair colour may have had something to do with that one as there was some babbling about Shrek and I had a fresh dye job that was a bit Princess Fiona-esque. It did make me wonder though… maybe I just give out a Mum vibe now.

Now let’s just establish something. I am NOT saying that Mum’s look old. I know plenty of babein Mums! I’m just saying that it’s a strange feeling to be mistaken for a mother as it reminds you that you’re now at that age where having babies is a thing you should be doing.

To me, when you have a small person and you’re the big person then that’s the time in your life when you need to reassess things and stop just doing what feels good for you and start doing what is right by the small person (y’know leading by example and all that jazz).  

I wrote a blog a while back lamenting the fact that I couldn't even look after myself let alone another human being so I guess really I should be honoured that these little people all thought I looked like the most important female figure in their lives… or else a fairytale Princess, I’ll take that too.

Also this. Mums are cool.
Mum Croc
Via Imgur

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