It’s true, lovely blog readers. I’m afflicted with Birthday Confusion.
It started in my mid-twenties, when hubs and I were out with a group of friends and someone casually asked me how old I was going to be in a few days, and I answered, never realizing that the number coming out of my mouth was all wrong. He gave me the look, which, for the life of me, I couldn’t quite figure out.
After pulling me aside, he’s like, you know you’re (insert real age here since clearly I can’t remember and can’t be trusted.) To which he got the big, round, no-way-did-I-just-lie-accidentally eyes. Because, honestly, I really thought I was younger. I really did. Time has a wacky way of getting confused, and though I deal with numbers every day, age isn’t one of those I really bother with. It is what it is, and who cares anyway?
But I’m not going to lie. It was slightly embarrassing. I may have only been off by two years, but I was still off. I didn’t know my own age. Who does that?!?
So every year since, I get nervous.
Because it’s inevitable that people, during your birthday week, will ask you how old you’re about to be. And I will shrug, get the deer in the headlights look of fear, and go silent. They’ll think it’s because I’m embarrassed about my actual age, when in reality, I’m just not sure what it is. And I do accounting for a living. Seriously.
It’s a strange phenomenon.
This past weekend we had dinner with my in-laws and the dreaded question came up. I did my annual shrug of the shoulders and waited for hubs to answer for me. Which I’m fully aware, makes me look weird, but I’m totally okay with it. Especially around the in-laws, who already know I’m strange.
And this year? It surprised me again, but thankfully, in the OPPOSITE direction. Could’ve sworn I was thirty-five this year, but turns out (according to hubs calculations) I’m going to be thirty-four.
Happy Birthday to me. *grin*
Please, someone, anyone out there, tell me this happens to you. Surely I’m not the only one who has a hard time keeping up. Am I? *hangs head in shame*