I’m talking to a woman who just met her son’s girlfriend.
“She is so old!” she hisses. “She is ancient. What is somebody so elderly doing with my son who is only thirty?”
“She is my age,” I observe.
“Yes, but that’s not the same thing. She is also huge. And he looks really tiny by her side.”
My angelic patience wears thin and I say, “Well, I surely don’t know who would be small enough for your son.”
“Me!” the loving mother exclaims.
I depart, once again thanking God in heaven that my mother-in-law lives on a different continent.