What are they called?!

Scenario: A thirsty Gabe runs out of the Childwatch center of our YMCA, heading for the drinking fountain.

Which is blocked by two very senior citizens, having an intense conversation (about what, I'm not sure). They are oblivious to this boy's dire need for a cold drink of water.

Gabe looks at me for help. I tell him to politely say "excuse me", which he does.

The elderly man moves first. Gabe climbs up the stool, gets his drink, and walks away. The couple continue their conversation.

As we walk down the hall, Gabe is deep in thought. (I can tell, 'cause he's being really quiet.)

He says to me, "I said 'scuse me to that poor man. Oh, that poor man, Mommy. Did you see that poor man?"

I look back at the "poor man", to see if maybe he was using a cane or a walker or had an obvious disability. Nope, nothing I could see.

I ask Gabe why he called him a "poor man".

"Oh, Mommy, he was a poor man. He had crinkles all over him! Did you see those crinkles?!"

Of course, another woman is walking along side of us, listening to this entire conversation, cracking up at the last part. I come thisclose to peeing my pants, struggling to hold in the giggles.

I explain to Gabe that we all get crinkles when we get old. Whether we like it or not.

(And that's why God invented Botox.)

I will never think of crinkles, I mean wrinkles, without a giggle again.