Generation Gap?

103I had a marathon hair session the other day.

Colour, cut, high lights, straightening–I got the full meal deal and then some.

This intense level of beautification isn’t for the faint of heart. My appointment started at 10:30 and I didn’t get out of the salon until about 1:40! Afterwards I was exhausted–fit for nothing more than lounging with a cup of tea and a novel. I don’t know how the stylists do it.

I’m not one for small talk so after our initial hello-s, my stylist got down to the nitty gritty while I immersed myself in gossip magazines.

Soon after my arrival, a high school girl took up residence in the chair next to mine. She was one of those bubbly, chatty people I admire.

She talked about her yearbook photo (“awful!”), her graduation dress (“strapless cream satin–like a wedding dress, but cuter!”) and her part time job at a t-shirt shop (“I love it when we get people with funny accents!”)

Her cell phone rang: “Yah…No, probably just hanging out at home tonight…Oooh–I’m so hung over today…You, too? Oh my God! Ha ha! We’re both hung over!…Okay, bye, Mom.”

Bye, Mom! What???

Sometimes I feel like the mom that time forgot.

At first I think it’s the generation gap rearing its grizzled head. Back in my day, high school kids (at least the ones I knew) didn’t complain to their parents about the severity of their hang overs. And if a parent suspected their teenager of illegal, underage drinking, they certainly didn’t commiserate about their own hang overs.

Then I realize the mom on the phone is probably about my age so I can’t even blame a generation gap.

I’m just uncool.

And I’m okay with that.