So Jordan and I went out to dinner the other night, and we were once again mistaken for teenagers.

I don't really understand how that keeps happening. Like, you are in your 30s. I turned 32 on Friday.

I, this time, like, I think this happens to Jordan, perhaps with more regularity than it happens to me.

I mean, he has come home with some ridiculous stories.

Do you think it's his haircut?

I do, except I was looking at old pictures of Jordan when he had, like, way curlier hair.

Like, his hair has changed.

Yeah.

And to me, he looks older because his hair is not as curly.

But, like, he was dressed for work, which, I mean, he was at Publix probably a year ago,

and the cashiers, plural, all, like, took bets and, like, talked about how old he was because he was buying alcohol

and they couldn't they thought he was on his way to prom because he was dressed up because that's their

definition of prom so we get up we're at smash burger we go up to the person she takes our order

there is no reaction but while jordan's paying she all of a sudden goes, I'm sorry, you guys have wedding rings

on.

How old are you?

And this girl was probably in her, I don't know, late teens, early 20s.

And we said, yeah, we're married, which Jordan is an extrovert.

And so he loves to engage this further, which I'm not going to lie, I was entertained by it as well.

I'm an introvert, but sure, bring it on.

So he goes, wait, how old do you think we are?

Because I was just about to say, oh, we're actually 30.

...