Really?

     About a month ago my mom, cousin Naomi and I took a trip to Watertown, NY to visit family. Along with my grandma, we drove four hours to Niagara Falls for an overnight.
     We had just pulled off the freeway en route to our hotel when we noticed a Niagara Falls tourism center (about the size of a hefty drive-thru coffee stand) and parked out in front. The lady who helped us--a jovial, overly made-up elderly woman named Toni--placed on the counter in front of us a brochure that contained information on three different guided tours that explored the falls and surrounding landmarks from various heights and means of transportation.
     Toni pointed to the first tour. "This one--" She stopped and quickly scanned our faces. "You're not traveling with anyone under 12, are you?" Her eyes found mine. And stayed there. For an uncomfortable length of time.
     "No," we all answered.
     Still Toni stared.
     I had no choice. "I look 12," I finally said, and saw in Toni's eyes a flicker of victory. "But I'm 24."
     Her jaw dropped. Her hand flew to her heart. "No!" she gasped, with an expression that my mother later described as being "decidedly shocked." "That can't be true!"
     Having experienced this reaction more times in my life than I care to admit, I have mastered the art of mentally rolling my eyes. I did so then, and offered up an apologetic smile. I felt as though I had somehow disappointed Toni, and disappointing Toni is not something one would ever want to do.
     "That's crazy!" she said. Her eyes darted suspiciously from my grandma to my cousin to my mom, daring another confession. "And you?" she asked, settling on Naomi. "I suppose you're..."
     "Twenty-three," Naomi answered.
     "Oh lord," Toni said.
     "And I'm 90," my grandma added.
     That about did Toni in. "Oh my god!" she shrieked. "You're 90? Oh, bless your heart! I hope I look that good when I'm 90! Boy, you folks sure are drinking from the fountain of youth!"
     We managed to pry ourselves away from the desk before Toni extended invitations to her next family reunion and we walked silently back to the car. Once all the doors were closed we burst out laughing.
     Twelve, I thought, shaking my head. That's a new record.

And it is. I believe that guess puts my average perceived age at about 14. Maybe it's time I accept it. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to put my hair in pigtails and dig out that old pair of corduroy overalls I threw into storage 15 years ago.