I’m 63 and still single, but my mother has never given up hope that she will get me married.
“What about that nice young lady who cuts my hair?”
“Ma,” I tell her, “I’m old enough to be her father.”
“What about the community director at my apartment complex?”
“Ma,” I say, “she’s old enough to be my mother!”
“You’re too picky!” she says.
She is right. I had ...