i had the wonderful privilege of going to a pancake breakfast with my brother, parents, and grandmother.

you know, the pancake breakfasts that little country churches like to throw . . . where there are old people everywhere sitting, talking, laughing.

and i remembered why i love old people.

i think an old lady would walk up to an ogre and say, "well, ain't you just the most handsomest, sweetest thing ever!"

because when you're an old lady, you are allowed to say things like "ain't you" and "most handsomest" with no social ramifications. cheek pinching is also within your bounds.

old men, on the other hand, are entitled to huge ears, their own brand of flirting with everything alive, and saying phrases like:

"you can't have your cake and eat it, too"

or

"a day late and a dollar short"

whatever the heck that means.

old people are allowed to forget people's names and have developed their own system by which they address everyone as "boy" or "girl" on the assumption that everyone is younger than they are.

young people, however, better remember their names.

so, basically, old people make me smile.

and i can't wait to be old.