when my mom was around my age, she was pacing the house, washing dishes, filling avon orders, idolizing chuck woolery (the one and ONLY real host of 'wheel of fortune') while trying to keep her 5 kids in check, by banning risk-ay 'made for TV movies,' and forbidding any of us teenage kids from making out with our 'steadies' on the davenport (translation: kissing on the couch). she fixed a square meal every single night, which usually consisted of some sort of meat byproduct, applesauce and overly cooked freezer burned vegetable.
all the while, plastering on her happy face, enabling her alcoholic husband and dreaming of those chocolate covered whatevers hidden deep within her closet......along with all those 1950's shoes, out of date purses and pre-wrapped gifts.
i sat by my mom one day on her bedside and asked just how old she was..........when she said '42' i just remember thinking, 'wow, that's fucking old.'
goddess love her.