Middle Age

Once upon a long time ago, DSguy asked me a rather unremarkable question.

“Mom, what year were you born in?”

I told him.

He replied, “Is that in the Old Testament?”

Maybe it was a run-of-the-mill question, but the answer sure packed a wallop!

Sometimes I wonder what exactly constitutes being middle aged. I mean, I consider myself in that category, but what is the standard, anyway?

• DSguy apparently once thought I was an ancient relic of Biblical proportions.
• The Man says that I’m pretty darn close to middle aged, citing currently recognized human life expectancies as proof. Simple division. How methodical.
• A gal pal who is a bit older than I am says I’m still a spring chicken.

Wikipedia says middle age can be anywhere from 35-65, depending on which source you ask. That’s quite a spread, and yes, I fall in that range.

Just for argument’s sake, let’s say Wikipedia and The Man are correct and I am officially middle aged. I’m OK with that. It means I’m growing in wisdom and restraint, as is evidenced by the fact that DSguy is still alive after that Old Testament comment.

Lord help me if he ever decides to ask about menopause.