Yet another sign of getting old.
We had a date tonight, the second since Simone was born (a lovely friend of ours offered to baby-sit. We stopped by Safeway on the way home to pick up some brussel sprouts for dinner tomorrow (they, like all other stores in the area have none). A bottle of wine seemed like an appropriate gift as we are going to Mary's folks place. When the scanning machine chimed to remind the cashier to check my id, I offered it. She stopped me by saying, "I don't need that, you're old."
Of course, she topped it by mentioning my gray hair a few sentences later.
Old I tell you, old.