How old do I look, lady?

I had a bridal consult this afternoon--actually, it was with the mother of the groom. She arrived 40 minutes late, but I was perfectly lovely to her and we sat down to discuss her plans for the wedding lucheon. I liked Kathy--that is until she had the nerve to ask me if any of my children were married. WHAT THE FREAK? I nearly jumped out of my seat and tackled the woman. Do I look like I could have a child old enough to get married? I quickly explained that I wasn't even married. She seemed a bit embarrassed, but wasn't nearly as apologetic as I thought she should have been. Couldn't she have made up some story about forgetting her glasses or maybe she could have explained that I handled myself which such maturity and professionalism that I seemed wise beyond my years? After she left, I was putting some glass away and telling my girls about the experience. . .the two didn't mix--I broke a vase. Huh, that's the second piece of glass I've had the pleasure of descimating in the last 3 days. I seem to recall an incident on Saturday with a glass pitcher and a cement floor. Boy, these fits of rage have got to stop!