L.O.L. / Mortality Bites

and no, I ain't laughing, peeps.  And this is why.....a few days ago I got a call from a very dear friend to let me know that her son would be up in Briz for a few days visiting his dad.   Tanya and I go way back....to the birth of her son to be exact.  I was hired by her to nanny for Daniel when he was four months old.  We hit it off immediately and have been very close ever since.   She's a truly loving giving person with a personality best described as "happy manic".  I adore her.  And her son.  At least I did until he decided to do the unthinkable.  He grew up.   Which is bad enough without adding the fact that the little boy who used to beg for repeated readings of "In the Night Kitchen" is now six feet four inches tall and the proud owner of a (gag)  Learners Permit.   He told me about plans for his gap year.  He used to show me the gaps in his teeth.  He sounds like he eats gravel and he does that "man sit" thing that makes all fellas look like they're lounging in front of the TV even when they're perched on a cane chair at a cafe.  He's exactly 15 months older than my son.  Which is where the LOL comes in.  I have officially redesignated it as "Little Old Lady", 'cos that's exactly how I feel.   I love Dan,  I'm thrilled that I had even a small role in producing the exceptional young man he's become.  But.  I feel old.     Proud.  But old.   Ovaltine, anyone???