After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

How old am I???

I've actually been wondering that on and off for about the last four months. Dumb, but true. Since realizing that I really had no idea what number to throw out when asked how old I am ("Something that starts with a 3?"). I've just been too lazy and too busy to worry about doing the math. It's kind of been a joke in my head. You know, "You want me to do what? I don't even know how old I am. Are you sure you trust me?" And really there isn't any changing it anyway.

So the other night my husband and I were discussing his upcoming birthday. And he says something like, "Yea, 31 this year."

Ummm . . . honey, let's do the math. But I don't think you are 30.

Turns out he was off by 2 years. Two whole years. He's going to be 33. "How did that happen?" he asks me.

Shoot, I don't know. We had kids? We're busy? We really don't care how old we are? (He claims we just got the vacuum that is 11 years old and broke last week--finally, after threatening for about the last two years.)

Apparently this age thing is bothering him. He brought it up again today, out of the blue. "So I'm going to be 33, and you are going to be 34 at the end of the year?"

Yup. (About as sympathetic as I can get these days.)

And Grace is going to be 5?

Yup. And in a couple weeks, we're going to have another baby.

Oh yea.

Yea. We need to get ready for that.

Yup. But right now I can only accomplish anything that can be done from the waist up. Pregnant tummies get in the way you know. Can an old man like you help me out?

Are you sure you trust me with that? I don't even know how old I am.
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2 comments:

Billye said...

Ok, here's the deal. It seems by the time you hit 30 you do forget how old you are. Does it matter? NO! It continues to be a problem for me. Maybe it is hereditary! We are busy with life and we have so many more birthdays to remember. And then along comes the age when you don't want to remember.

June 27, 2008 at 5:05 PM
Tanja said...

You're not alone! I am forever "one less than Terry" :). So, only DH has to keep track of how old he is...I am one less. In just under a month he will be turning 40. Yes, 40! And your DH wonders how he got to 33? How on earth are we at 40 (and one-less-than-40) already? LOL

Hugs, Tanja

June 27, 2008 at 10:33 PM

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