Nora: “My friend at pre-school is older than me but I’m taller than her, isn’t that weird?”
Me: “Well age and height don’t always go together in that way. You can be older than someone but still be shorter than them. Like–
Nora: “Oh oh I know! Like how you are way way waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay older than Dad, but Dad is a teensy teensy tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny bit taller than you.”
Not sure who got the bigger burn there.
Kid, as I’m dropping him and the rest of the class off in the cafeteria: “Miss Emily, it smells like rotting meat in here. And you are 33 years old.”
Walks away.
(Continuation of Tread Lightly )
Guy (after I told him I’m 33): “Who cares? Age is just a number!”
Me: “I agree. Thank you for saying that.”
Guy: “Yeah, trust me. I’m studying to be a doctor. I see people die at ALL ages.”
Stop talking forever.
Last night at Clara, a popular club/bar in Tel Aviv:
Guy: “I like this place, but everyone is so young. I’m definitely the oldest person here.”
Me: “Tread lightly. You are for SURE younger than I am.”
Guy: “Not a chance. I’m almost 26!”
And then I slapped him across his whiny, toddler face.
Kid: “How old are you? You look late 20s.”
Me: “You’re my new favorite person!”
Kid: “How bout Miss [coteacher]? She looks younger than you.”
I hate you.
Kid: “You’re 32?!”
Me: “Yes.”
Kid: “You’re not even younger than my mom.”
Me: “Great. And thanks.”
Kid: “Well don’t feel bad– you ARE shorter than her, at least.”
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