Tick. Tick. Tick.

On Sunday, Muffin and I were at that restaurant of dubious cleanliness I told you about--having a couple of eggs, both of us anxious to be out of the house and away from a shin-deep pile of chores that wanted doing.

"Look at that couple," I said, nodding my head in the direction of the front counter.

"Aww," Muffin said. "That's adorable."

She's a pushover for old people pairs, especially when they don't act like they hate each other.

"I think," I said (chew, chew, chew), "that when it's all said and done, that's the only thing I'm gonna regret. Not having someone to grow old with."

"Mom. You can still find somebody. "

"Do you really think so? You don't think I've waited too long?"

"Oh, no," Muffin assured me. "You can still meet someone to be old with. It's definitely not too late."

We watched the couple pay their check and leave, she with her purse in the crook of one arm, he with his hand at the small of her back.

"I mean--you may have to, you know, fix up a little."

Image, Square America.