I am Mrs. Robinson

So I'm out for my speedwalk and I am passed by three college guys out for a jog. I should mention that they were shirtles, very cute and the the testosterone was flying off their bodies like sweat. They say good morning and glance back as they pass me. Ooh, I got checked out.

Then I hear "not bad for her age."

And I realize, they think I am old. And to them, I pretty much am. In fact, I am old enough to be their mother without being a highschool pregnancy statistic.

I am Mrs. Robinson.

I am so depressed.