You know what’s weird? Nordic Boy has no idea how old anyone is. And I mean, ANYONE. Neighbor J’s daughter? She just turned one this summer. When we were getting ready to go to her party, Nordic Boy is all…”how old is she turning again?” ONE. She is turning ONE. This is her first birthday; we have never celebrated her birthday ever before, ergo…she is ONE. How hard is that?
The other thing about this is he always inflates birthdays, sometimes by a year, and sometimes by several years. In his mind, people are always older than they actually are. Why this is I can’t figure out.
The morning of my birthday, as I am sleeping:
Him: Wake up! It’s your birthday! Happy birthday!
Me: Aww, thanks!
Him: So, birthday lady, how does it feel to be THIRTY SEVEN?
(Note to you all out there…I am not 37.)
Me: WHAT? How long was I asleep? What am I, Rip Van Winkle? How am I thirty seven?
Him: Wait…you’re not?
Him: But…I thought you were turning the same age as I am.
Me: Dude. YOU’RE NOT THIRTY SEVEN EITHER.
No idea how old I am. Or how old he is. I know that this is common (I have brought it up with y’all before and you schooled me on the number of folks that don’t know how old you are out there and I get it, it’s a lot of you. But still. I think it’s weird.)
In other birthday news. How frickin’ cute is THIS? (Thanks Pop Quiz Kid, for finding this).