It was a ward Christmas party, and someone ratted me out (never did find out who) so everybody sang Happy Birthday to me.

I was standing next to someone decades older than I was, and she grinned and elbowed me in the side. “‘N how old are ya? Thirty-nine and countin’?”

What do you say to that? I never did get why any woman should feel they should lie about their age; it was just not my thing. And with the friendliest of intentions on her part, it kind of put me on the spot.

Yeah, for about six hours now, I told her.

I spent the twelve months thereafter saying I was going to be 40 next year so people would believe me. I spent the year I actually was 40 feeling like, but wait, didn’t I, like, already do this.

Yonder kiddo remembered the story when we called to say Happy Birthday.

Let me think… 5:54 pm, as I remember. About three hours now.