Yes, that is old.

I’m turning 40 in a few months.

Yes, I know you are only as old as you feel, but the numbers is still a bit intimidating.  When I was in my twenties I used to think that when you reach 40 it is the end of your life and you will just have to sit and wait for the Grim reaper to knock on your door.  (No, I don’t feel like that anymore.)

I remember as a kid drawing pictures of my grandparents.  Grandpa was normally a stick figure with a pipe and grandma was a stick figure with her hair up and some needlework drawn over the hand area.

When my kids draw their grandparents it is basically just a larger male or female figure.  And it is not because they are that young, it is just because kids have a different perception of grandparents.  They don’t live on a farm or in an old age home, they are still productive, active members of the community.  Besides I know a few grandmothers that can still give some youngsters a run for their money on the hotness scale.

My kid once drew the whole family and I made the mistake of asking “Is that me?” , pointing to a larger male figure.  “No,” he said “it is grandpa.”  In my defence, there was no way to tell.  There were just two larger male figures resembling me and my dad.  I think it is proof enough that 40 is the new 30 and 50 is the new 40 and so and so on.

A few years ago a 6 year-old kid in my wife’s class redefined age for us.  Like every Monday morning she would give the class some time to reflect on their weekend.  Telling the rest of the children of things that happened at home etc.  So this one girl, looking very distraught, said to the class:

“My dog is very old.”

“How old is he,” asked my wife in her loving, concerned teacher’s voice.

“Well, he is so old, he does not even lay eggs anymore.”

True story.  So when you stop laying eggs, then you know.  I have been trying forever…

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