When the Clock Stopped Ticking

Every time a promo girl at the mall asks for my age when I claim promo items or prizes, I would answer “thirty” with my I’m-not-like-the-others-I-don’t-mind-telling-you-my-age look.

So here’s the case. Hubby’s younger sister turned 30 yesterday. I don’t know why but while I was in the shower this morning, I said to myself, “Hey, I’m only a month older than she is.” I was still smiling while thinking about the age gap between me and Hubby when I suddenly stopped. Something just didn’t seem right.

Wait a minute. I was born 1978. It’s 2009. I can’t be thirty!

And so I did the math and remembered I turned thirty-one last month. Alone at my desk and in front of my computer, I giggle like crazy just thinking about the many times I said “thirty” to the promo girls at the mall during the past weeks. Hahaha! Now, I understand why I got blank faces for about three minutes when I interviewed housewives before and asked for their age. Somehow, a woman’s age counter just stops ticking at 30.