Just Call Me Granny

I was shopping with the girls yesterday when a woman approached me. "Oh, are they quadruplets?" "Yes," I answered. Her next question floored me: "So are you the grandma or the mom?" Um, say what now?
I'm 36. I don't really care if you know my age. Some days I feel 36, most days I'm surprised it has been so long since I graduated college. I don't have a gray hair on my head. (Some of this could be due to the fact that my hair is highlighted, which could hide any potential gray). Sure, I'm starting to get laugh lines, crow's feet, the typical signs of aging that happen as one approaches 40... but grandma? Whatever. 
At least I have my girls to give me an ego boost. The past few summers I've known that I need to wear a hat out in the sun. The ones I've found tend be too "working in the garden" or way too expensive or both. But the other day I found one on clearance at Old Navy ($5.... my kind of price). I tried it on and all four girls oohed and ahhhed. "Mom," one of the exclaimed, "You look soooooo stylish." All the way to the car they talked about how "cute" I looked, how much they liked my hat and how they couldn't wait for me to wear it to the pool. When my girls receive new clothes they like to model them in a fashion show of sorts. As soon as we arrived home from Old Navy, they begged me to have a fashion show to show off my hat. I guess that makes up for rude people who call me granny!