I do not look like I’m 12 years old. I look 15. And I’m OK with this.
As a freshman, I did look 12. But a couple years at the Optimist will put the age in your face real quick.
At the beginning of my first Christmas break of college, I flew from Abilene to DFW and then on to Richmond, Va., my hometown. Three different flight attendants asked me at three different times if I was 15, because if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be allowed to sit in the emergency exit row. By the third time, I just said, “I will be in a week, is that OK?”
I had felt so old and cool, holding my own in DFW by myself, but that was a nice reality check.
Part of it is because I couldn’t grow a beard.
Some things never seem to change. I had come to terms with my baby face, until I started watching Duck Dynasty. Good show.
Last summer, I was reporting for the Abilene Reporter-News for my internship. I went to the Expo Center to cover an event, and introduced myself to the man in the ticket booth as a reporter.
“Really? You don’t look old enough to be a reporter,” he said. Then he let me in.
I’m proud of my baby face, because it means I will look younger than I am later in life. When I’m 40 I’ll look 30 and will have the ability to grow a beard. I hope.
I still don’t feel like a grown up. I think I will when I have graduated, secured a job, begun supporting myself financially, ceased wearing hoodies, used the word “procure” and gone to Lowe’s or Home Depot to buy myself something.
Baby faces, unite and take pride in your youthfulness. It’s a good thing.
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