Baby Boomers Diary: Adult Children - a Mother's Milestone

Hello, fellow Baby Boomers.

It was one of those moments a mother always remembers.

My wee boy (Malcolm, aged 39) called me on Sunday.

That, in itself, isn't unusual. We always speak on Sundays.

But he wasn't his usual laid-back self. No, he was bursting with indignation as he related his tale of woe.

He was in his local organic grocery store, bagging his purchases in the re-usable hemp bags he carries with him at all times.

Malcolm lives in Toronto and is Very Green. Some would say excessively so.

But I digress.

A spotty urchin of a bag boy approached the check-out and asked if Malcolm needed any help packing up his purchases.

Malcolm declined, and the youth responded with a laconic, "Okay, Pops."

"Pops!" Malcolm sputtered, breathing heavily down the phone line at me.

Now, Malcolm prides himself on not looking his age. He exercises like a maniac, eats only vegan, organic food, and exfoliates regularly. "Pops" got him where it hurt.

I bit back a smile and tried to be motherly and sympathetic. Really I did.

I "you poor thing"ed him, and agreed that he looked no way near 39.

But once I got off the phone, I will confess to whooping and laughing uncontrollably for quite a long time.

Does that make me a bad mother?

Plus, it's in my best interests for Malcolm to appear youthful for a long as possible if I'm to remain at my purported age of 49 indefinitely.

I'll buy him a jar of organic moisturizer for his birthday.

And some fake ID.