G’day all 😀
Wow it’s August, seriously time is a weird thing, how it passes so quickly overall yet feels so slow in the moments of the days before you get to a milestone and then think – it’s that time already!? But the days, weeks, months and years can seem like forever in the waiting.
Hence age is a funny thing such as wanting to be older whilst young and wanting to be younger when older, at least in some aspects.
I’ve pretty much come to the conclusion that I was born an old aged pensioner (without the pension), a grumpy git, an old goat, a mature and responsible little kid; then became increasingly youthful as I got older (but still mature and responsible). It seems alot of people feel similar when they hit a milestone in middle age such as 40 or 50 though unfortunately some of them go off the rails and when I was in college (high school to US folk) I realized many people go through what I termed a ‘quarter life crises’.
Age along with ethnicity/nationality are two very common questions people ask early on in their first conversations and some of us for whatever reasons aren’t entirely honest about it if not totally delving into fiction. When people answer some ask in return and many perhaps think “how old do you think I am” or “how old do I look?” This is always a tough one on the would-be answerer and there’s little lee-weigh between disappointment and awkwardness/embarrassment for both parties if the age guessed is older or spot on.
I’m pretty straightforward as I don’t care how old I am or when I was born (I do care about massive deterioration/reduction of health and looks) though I’m not one of the ‘age is just a number’ subscribers, but people can be so assuming and/or rude that sometimes it’s fun to say something else… 😉
Meanwhile in Mum’s situation:
That said – I’d mostly like to answer “I don’t know” to the age and perhaps even my name “I’m Dolly, so-called, I don’t know if it’s my real name I didn’t choose it.” But that’d mean the conversation would go on longer and I canny be bothered wi’ tha’.