Today I was watching my grandchildren play when some neighbors came over to play. I chatted with them a few minutes, just getting to know them. I asked Jerry how old he was. “I’m seven, but I’ll be eight on my birthday,” was his reply. I then asked Ada how old she was. “I’m ten, but I’ll be eleven on my birthday.”
I smiled as I thought about their answers. Why is it that people so often tell me how old they will be on their next birthday instead of how old they are today? I know the kids are anxious to grow up and can hardly wait to be older, but it’s not just the kids. When I ask some of my older friends they say, ”I’m going to be 75 on my next birthday.” Perhaps when we pass seventy we are just so grateful for each new day that we are just praying to make it to another birthday. This phenomenon is not limited to the young and the old. When I was working in the doctor’s office I frequently asked people how old they were. The answer I most often heard was, “I’ll be x on my next birthday.” I used to assume that the birthday was coming up in the near future, but no, the birthday was 6 or more months away. Are we really all anxious to another year older?
I’m 65, but I’ll be 66 on my next birthday. How old are you?
1 comment:
I am 495.75 months.
That sounds old, doesn't it?
I'm not as old as I expected I'd feel at this age. I thought at 41 I'd be smarter, have a better plan.
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