From my wedding photographer days, I remember very clearly the morning it happened. I had arrived at the bride’s house, rang the doorbell and was greeted by her mother. My first impression was how attractive Mom was. She called upstairs to tell her daughter that the photographer was here. “Becky” came bouncing down the stairs in her wedding finery, and my second impression was how young she was. Then, as I posed Becky and her Mom and gazed at them through the viewfinder, I realized that I was more attracted to the mother than I was to the daughter. This had never happened before.
I didn’t have time to ponder this revelation until later in the evening on the ride home from the wedding reception. It was then that I knew that I had crossed some kind of Rubicon of aging. Something had happened that day and I remember not being entirely comfortable with it.
These thoughts were generated by a post in a “To the Manor Born” blogsite click here, in which the author Toad discusses how he thinks that Kate’s Mom Carole (left) looks better than does Princess2be Kate. (For me, Carole passed the Ridge-boy cool-girl test when she chewed the gum while standing next to the Queen and riled up all the Royal etiquette folks.)
Here is a nice little Stones song about those times when you can’t quite figure out what just happened. Seems like that’s occurring to me more and more of late! 