As my 40th birthday approached, my husband, who is a year younger, was doing his best to rub it in that I was aging.
Trying to figure out what all the teasing was about, our young daughter asked me, “How old is Daddy?”
“Thirty-nine,” I told her.
“And how old will you be?”
“Forty,” I said sadly.
“But, Mommy,” she exclaimed, “you’re winning!”
(photo courtesy of Andrey Kiselev/Dreamstime.com)