I'm a "ma'am" . . .

It's been happening with more and more frequency. I ignored it at first, certain there'd been a mistake. But no. Last night at the grocery store it was confirmed once again by the checkout guy. He called me ma'am. WHAT THE *&#@! When did this happen?! Perhaps it's the four children, the oldest of whom will soon be ten. Perhaps it's the squint lines that don't go away, even when I come in out of the blinding sun that was making me squint! Perhaps it's the ski slope around my waist from "growing" said four children. Perhaps it's all of these. Either way, I just don't understand how someone who watches American Idol, STILL gets zits, knows what BFF and LOL mean, and who has kidded herself into thinking she can still hang out in the Jr.'s section of the clothing store can be a "ma'am" and not a "miss". Good grief. There's nothing between "ma'am" and Grandma, so now what am I supposed to do for the next 15 years?!