A Shocking New Development

My husband made a startling observation the other day. When I heard it, I nearly fainted. Before you read the rest of this make sure you’re comfortably seated. Are you ready?

I’m 34. When did that happen? I’d been walking around for the past seven months living the life of a 33 year old. I’d been thinking 33-year-old thoughts and saying 33-year-old things. And all the while, I was 34.

This whole turn of events happened when I mentioned being 33 to my husband the other day. “You’re not 33,” he said. I was excited by this statement because I actually thought I was rounding up and that maybe he’d say, “You’re really 32.” He didn’t say that. This is what he said, “You’re 34.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You were born in 1974. This is 2008. That makes you 34.”

“No, I’m not,” I insisted. He obviously had no idea what he was talking about.

“You’re birthday’s in May. You’re 34 and I’m 43.”

“You’re 43!” This was completely astonishing to me.

“Unfortunately,” he said.

I’m glad I’m not the one that’s 43, I secretly thought as I left the room.