My son, the age-ist

While preparing for Mark's recent backpacking trip, we realized his sleeping bag was waaaaaay too big to carry. So with hours to spare, we schlepped to the local sporting goods store in search of a smaller, lighter bag.

As I pulled into a parking space, Mark gasped and pointed out two middle-aged women in the car next to us.

"What are they doing here?" he asked in his most accusatory tone.

I knew immediately what he was really asking. He wasn't speaking geographically, as in, "How did they come to be in this parking lot?" He wanted to know what these ancient, aged women could possibly need from a sporting good store which was clearly meant for only the youngest and most athletic people. But I wasn't going to point that out--I'd let Mark string his own self up.

"Why wouldn't they be here?" I asked.

"Because, you know..." he said. "Look at them."

"Women can't go to sporting goods stores?" I said.

"Not women," he huffed. Then, finally, he said it. "Old people."

"Only young people can hike?" I asked, surprised.

"Well," Mark started. "I'm just saying, they seem a little...old...to be hiking."

"Huh," I said. "I didn't know there was an age limit."

Mark just shrugged. He felt sorry for me, because I obviously wasn't smart enough to figure out that older people should stay home in their rocking chairs, petting their cats and complaining about the cold weather.

But young Mark was singing a different tune when he came back from the hike. He was sore all over, and could barely walk.

"Mr. Huss tried to kill us!" he complained bitterly.

And then I smiled. I remembered talking to Mr. Huss at the last camp out, when he mentioned his job, prior to retiring. He was certainly much older than the two ladies at the sporting goods store.

"What do you mean?" I asked Mark.

"Mr. Huss made us hike all the way up the mountain," Mark said. "We didn't even want to climb to the top, but he kept on going. He wouldn't slow down."

"Really?" I asked. "He wasn't tired?"

"No!" Mark answered. "He hikes all the time. He's running a marathon next weekend, so this was no big deal for him."

"What about the other boys?" I asked. "Did they want to keep climbing?"

"No way!" Mark said. "They were tired and sore, too. Sean said even his toes hurt!"

And there was my win.

"So all the young kids were tired," I said. "What about the leaders? Who's the oldest leader in the group?"

"Mr. Huss," Mark said. 

"So you're saying the oldest guy in the group kicked all your young butts?" I asked. "And you don't think old people can hike?"

Mark glared at me, then burst into laughter. He knew he was beat.

"Mr. Huss is a marathon runner," he reminded me.

"And the oldest guy in the group," I reminded him back.

"Whatever," Mark said. He walked away, and I just smiled to myself.

Score one for the old guys, I thought.