Ma'am Age?

I joked when I turned 23 that I had reached "ma'am age," the age when teens start calling you "ma'am." It was only a joke.

Two years later I have truly reached ma'am age. On my walk out of the newspaper office tonight for dinner the skateboarders were in the parking lot commiting various acts of delinquency, including smoking and (duh) skateboarding on our loading dock.

Upon seeing me, they seemed to spook. Three boys separate and start heading for the street, and one hides a cigarette (as if I was going to bust them -- please). I noticed that I do look suspiciously like a soccer mom today (light blue capris with a yellow polo and white keds -- scary stuff). That is when I realized it: I'm no longer cool.

I can no longer hang with the teenagers. I can't just blend in with the mallrats and the skaters. I can't loiter in front of bowling alleys or cruise the mall parking lot without looking like a complete loser.

Since when did I become such an adult?