Melodie has had this obsession with birthdays for a while now. At the beginning of the year, she asked me how old I was. I said 26, soon to be 27. Soon, she asked me again, I answered almost 27. The next time she asked me I just said 27. And since then, that’s how old I have thought I was. My birthday is in two days, so in my head I should be turning 28.
I have even read about people, celebrities and others who are 28, thinking: “Oh, so they’re as old as I am then.” I spoke with someone at Mels’ school, I said I was turning 28. My head has been set to this specific age now, so for the last few months, I have been 27.
Twenty-seven years. In my head.
A few weeks ago, a school friend of mine had a birthday. Heaps of people were congratulating him on Facebook. Someone said “Happy 27th birthday!!” And here I am, giggling to myself; “Haha, this person is going to be laughed at soon, for getting it wrong.” And I read the comments underneath. Noone seems to mention that the age is wrong. Not even the birthday child himself!
I sat there thinking it was weird. Why wouldn’t anyone correct this error? I wasn’t going to do it myself, but surely someone would notice? And then it hit me. What if I am wrong? What if he was turning 27? I started calculating, and realized, I AM TWENTY-SIX! Which means, obviously, that I too am turning 27. My mind was blown.
So now I have gained a whole year of my life. You may not think it matters that much, but it does. You see, we wanted to have our next baby when I am 28. Which gives us over a year to make that happen, as opposed to asap. There are also the other ‘before I turn 30’-plans, which I now have one more year to achieve. This is great! I will be celebrating my 27th birthday in a few days, and I don’t have to worry about my 28th for a long time! I am still yooooung!
Have you ever misconstrued the time and had the wrong idea?