Pass the Depends, please.

You know, I pushed the I feel old feeling aside after going to my brother's high school graduation that was nothing like mine (even though we graduated from the same school); when I saw the teenage girls at the pool in their bikinis while I was sporting my tankini in the baby pool area; and even when I've found myself gravitating towards the "Misses" section at Target lately. But nothing made me feel more geriatric than last night at Walmart. There was a young man in front of me buying alcohol and the clerk asked for his ID. She read his birthday aloud as she was typing it in to the computer and imagine my shock when I heard her say 1989. 1989?! Someone born in 1989 is old enough to buy alcohol?

Man. I feel old.