Old and Not Cool

Lining up the children in this morning’s kindergarten class just before dismissal on a sunny day, I had my sunglasses on top of my head.

“Why do you have your glasses there?” asked one boy.

We’re still indoors, I told him. I don’t need them right now. As soon as we get outside, I’ll flip the sunglasses down over my eyes.

“Let’s see how they look on your face.”

I complied.

“Cool,” he said.

I try to look cool, I told him, but it usually doesn’t work.

“Why—because you’re old?”

Probably, but …

“How old are you?”

Before I could lie, the estimates started:

“A hundred?” was one guess.

“Eighty?” was another.

I gave them both detention.