One Birthday, Four Stories

This post is inspired by Sister Betty’s post about her husband getting the date of their marriage wrong after 36 years. My sympathies are with Larry. The important thing is he was there all those 13149 days.

One…
A few days before my birthday last week, son called and happened to remember I had a birthday coming up.
Son: So, how many is this.
Me: 43
Son: Nooo, maybe 53:
I thought it was so very funny that he had no idea how old I really am.

Two…
At work on my birthday, I was laughing and telling this story.
Me: He has no idea how old I am.
Work Friend: So, how old are you.
Me: Well, let’s see I am 58 and George will be 59 next month. Me: Thinnnnnkkkking… Nooo, George was born in 47, he will be 60 next month, so I am 59. I don’t know how old I am, and this is the FIRST time it has dawned on me that my husband is going to be 60 this year. I don’t mean the first time this day or this week, but the first time in the last year or maybe more, I realized George is going to be 60 this birthday.

Three…
Granddaughter Emmy called me on my birthday.
Emmy: Grandma, is it your birthday?
Me: Yes, Emmy, it is my birthday?
Emmy: Happy Birthday Grandma.
Emmy: Do you have cake?
Me: What?
Emmy: Do you have birthday cake?
Me: No, no cake.
Emmy: Do you have presents?
Me: No, no presents.
Emmy: Grandma, are you sure it is your birthday?

Four…
Now, realizing my husband will be 60 next month, I ask him if he wants to take a long week-end and go somewhere.
Me: Your birthday is on Sunday this year and you will have Friday and Saturday off too so we could go somewhere.
Husband: My birthday is on Thursday this year.
Me: No, look at the calendar. The forth is on Sunday this year.
Husband: Yes, but my birthday is not the forth. That is your son’s birthday.

If, around the first of the month, you cease to hear from me ever again. Husband took me off somewhere and left me, knowing full well that I am too old and feeble to find my way back home.