“I have to tell you something,” he said, swallowing hard. Later that night, I called my mom, who told me that age was just a number. We were strolling home from dinner in the West Village, full of burgers and rosy-cheeked from red wine, when he stopped short on the busy sidewalk. It was much older than I had guessed from his baby face, Converse sneakers and goofy demeanor.Sun flooded the terrace of our detached house in rural France, and the champagne flowed freely as my husband and I hosted a barbecue at our new home.We’d pulled out all the stops to impress one of his oldest friends, spending a small fortune on steak, prawns and foie gras.
during our dating season, I realized it was coming and started giggling over it, even then.Yes, he might be into you because you like the same bands and you act "mature for your age." (Has he ever told you that you have "an old soul?" Puke.) But mostly, it's the fact that he's your first.At 67, my husband had been seriously ill for the last ten years of our marriage. However cool it makes you is exactly how lame it makes him.