Every morning on my drive in to work I pass by a house that has two garden gnomes, both of them placed tantalizingly close the road. Those folks are either really trusting or really stupid because every morning I quietly plot the best method for stealth garden gnome removal and then I remember that I'm an adult and taking other people's stuff is called "stealing." Stupid, all the things I didn't do when I was young enough to not go to jail for them.
I think my age is catching up with me but I wouldn't actually know because I forgot how old I was the other night. Not, like, for a second but for a while. I was too embarrassed by my own self to do the math, so instead I had the following inner-monologue chat:
"Wait, how old am I? 35 or 36?"
"Do the math."
"No! I refuse to admit that I don't know this off the top of my head. I'm definitely 36."
"Are you sure?"
"Wait, no, duh I'm 35...or 36."
"uh."
"Sheesh, I'm so dumb! I'm absolutely 36."
And then I went to sleep.
PS. I'm 35.
I thought you were 33. Wait. 1972 plus...(1982, 1992, 2002....03,04,05,06,07). Thirty plus five. Damn. You're old.
ReplyDeleteWell, I guess that could be a good part of getting old!
ReplyDeleteI am relieved to read this because I have to get my age by subtraction ALL THE TIME. (38)
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a kid and "old" people would have to stop and think about how old they were, I'd roll my eyes, because, ridiculous! How could someone not know how OLD they are?
ReplyDeleteKarma has taken its time, but it's biting me hard.