“Excuse me, can I ask you kind of a weird question?”

After seven innings of not saying boo, the lady sitting next to me and Deserae at an Indians game this summer finally decided just to go for it. I knew what the question would be before it left her mouth.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Twenty-eight!” Her eyes got big and she looked at husband. “Twenty-eight!!”

“I know I look like I’m 16.”

“You look like you could be 14! And then we saw your wedding ring and I was like, ‘Noooooooo’ and then we saw her wedding ring and – 28! How old are you?”

Deserae squinted at the lady. “Twenty-six.”

“YOU LOOK LIKE BABIES! I told my husband…”

For several minutes, she could not stop herself telling the two strangers she had just met (who happen to be adults) how much they look like babies. You may not have guessed that this is acceptable behavior, but after having this conversation 1,000 times, I’ve come to find out that it’s apparently OK as long as you end it with the phrase our new friend said before she turned back to the game.

“Well, at least you’ll be happy about it someday!”

Earlier this month I turned 29. I am still not happy about it.

I take a little bit of comfort in knowing that I’m not totally alone:

I too am stuck in the “That Tall Child Looks Terrible” phase of life. It is not the best. You know how when you’re a teenager, you’re like, “Well my voice cracks and I can’t grow a convincing beard, but at least when I start college, people will begin taking me seriously!” I have moved that last part up several times since then from “start college” to “find a job” to “get married.” Right now I’m at “go bald.”

I feel especially bad for Deserae. When she’s at work, she gets treated like a real, live adult. But when she’s out with me, the best case scenario is people think we’re teenagers on our first date. Worst case scenario is they see the rings and assume a shotgun wedding was involved. Even though they shake their heads, they’re a little happy for us because teen pregnancy is difficult, but at least we have young parents who can watch the child and let us enjoy a night out once in awhile.

I could spend the rest of this blog post complaining. Instead, I will make today the “someday” that I’ll be happy about my boyish good looks. Here are all the great things about looking like I’m 16.

Student Discounts

I look almost exactly like my brother Scott, who happens to be eight years younger than me and still in college. You know how most teenagers borrow their older sibling’s ID to get alcohol? I borrow Scott’s ID to get student discounts.

The Drink Special Game

Deserae and I don’t drink, but we enjoy playing a fun game called, “Drink Special” when we go out. Basically, the server gets points for how enthusiastically he pushes the restaurant’s drink special. Point values are a work in progress, but here’s a rough outline:

Comes to the table with a wine bottle, but hides it behind his back when he sees us and immediately collects the wine glasses: 0 points

Mumbles something about the drink special, stumbles over his words, then enthusiastically recommends the strawberry lemonade: -5 points

Mentions happy hour without apology: 5 points

Mentions the happy hour drinks without apology: 10 points

Follows up a hearty margarita recommendation with, “Are you suuuuuuuure?” 100 points

Teenage Celebrity

I am often told that I look just like some kid who plays on a Disney show. This kid is apparently a riot, which raises my status among the under-12 crowd. This has also given me hope that if the whole writing thing doesn’t work out, I can always go to Hollywood and find work as the industry’s most responsible child actor.

Shaving

Without telling anyone, a few months ago I decided that I would see how much facial hair I could grow if I just stopped shaving. Deserae was the only one who noticed.

“Hey, you missed some spots by your neck.”

“I missed all the spots!”

“What?”

“I haven’t shaved for a week and a half! I feel like it’s coming in very nicely.”

She examined my face closer. “Yeah, in patches of wisps.”

The bad news is she started laughing. The good news is I can go a week and a half without shaving before anyone notices.

And Finally – That Carnival Game Where Someone Tries to Guess Your Age

Like taking candy from a baby.

LIFE LESSON #52

When life gives you a baby face, make sure you get the student discount on the lemonade.