The younger pinches the skin on the back of my hand.
“Awwwww,” she exclaims, marveling at the way my skin wrinkles in little creases like crepe paper. “It’s so soft and … flexible ……”
“Uh huh,” I acknowledge dourly.
“But why will yours do that? Look at mine—” she pinches the skin on the back of her own hand, skin so taut as to be barely pinchable.
“Why won’t mine do that???” she asks.
“Because you’re young,” I say glumly.
“So it’s tight?”
Now she looks glum but then her eyes widen as a thought strikes her.
“Man, I can’t wait to be your age, I’m just gonna pinch myself all day long!” she declares gleefully.
I smile grimly.