A favorite family story about my father-in-law is about the time my mother-in-law was approaching her 40th birthday.
She was wary of reaching the big 4-0.
Actually, she was terrified.
She was afraid she would be 'old'.
She was afraid that her husband would not care for her as much.
Actually, she was afraid that her husband would not care for her at all.
My father-in-law, being the kind, caring, and gentle person that he is, found a quiet, delicate way to dissuade her of these notions.
He put together a large banner and hung it in front of the house:
I'm told that it did the trick.
WIFE JUST TURNED 40
WILL TRADE FOR TWO 20's
And he sustained no physical injuries.
...I remember as a child--I guess I must have been in 3rd for 4th grade--a bunch of us got together and we were talking about how old our parents were. I guess we decided that we would ask our parents and report back the next day.
When I got home from school, I went over to my mother and asked her how old she was--and she told me.
The next day at school, we were talking about our 'findings'.
We each told over what our parents had told us and compared notes.
Until I told them what my mother had told me.
When I did--they all burst out laughing.
I just told them what my mother had told me--that she was 81 years old.
I mean, if you can't trust your own mother, who can you trust?
Last week, out of the blue, my daughter asked me:
Abba, how old are you?
Needless to say, I felt obliged to continue the family tradition.