Susan, Lisa, and Olivia came to my neck of
the woods for the joint celebration. We planned an early dinner at a delicious
restaurant on the Coast Guard pier in Monterey. Perfect for my lobster tail and
entertainment from the barking seals for a dessert stroll down the pier for
Olivia. I bought a Princess cake for O -face (green of course) and gave it to
the waiter as we entered to refrigerate. When I ordered the cake I wanted to
have a creatively groovy saying like "The Boo Turns Two and 1/2" (Boo
is Olivia's nick name) but I ordered too early for the creative juice to
activate in my brain.
During our dinner conversation, Lisa asked
me how old I was. ""48", I replied with absolute conviction.
Susan said "You're five years older than me, you're 49". Older
sisters have a way of presenting their thoughts as the ulti'mate truth so of
course, I was right. "Not," I replied, "I'm 48". Susan looked at me with some confusion,
"We are five years different." "No, four and half" I said.
(Lisa is looking down at her plate and Olivia is playing with her French
fries). Honestly, now I'm confused. We went through the high school and the
graduation years, to the funny little ways we play with a new year and our
ages, and the digits at the end of said new year. No way was I 49 with 50
looming in less the 362 days away. I subtracted the years in my mind. No way
49. As we dove into our meals, we silently double checked our ways of playing
with the difference of years. Ok, true confessions. I added the years on my fingers,
several times. Yes, I placed each finger, like I was playing a piano, one at a
time on the table cloth. 1959, to 60, 61, 62, 63.... I really wanted to include
my toes but they were clenched tight and I thought I might miss a year or two
and end up at 28. 28 was a been there done that year which is better left to
the past. Never the less, I counted to 49 on my lobster dripping fingers.
I tried to be nonplussed by the
revelation. 49? What the fuck happed to 48? WHAT THE FUCK? I was 47 last week, now I'm 49? Last
year (or maybe the year before), I was actually carded at Trader Joes for
buying a bottle of wine. Ok, so I was wearing my very cool sun glasses, and my
gorgeous lips may have radiated youth and my cheeks are un-pocked but I really
wanted to see the clerks reaction when I showed my id so I kept the shades one.
Precious moment, he was shocked and said we were the same age! Yeah, but we
have the no-wrinkle gene in our family as well as the convenient no-grey-hair
smart-salon-gene. He, on the other had, needed a touch-up around the temples.
Back to half birthdays. Olivia turned 2
1/2. When the waiters brought out the cake, not only did they put candles in,
they sunk the third one half-way down. How cool is that? Being carded at 47 and
a half is also way cool, but then first experiences generally are. Happy half
birthday to all. O-face came up on my lap and I proceeded to teach her how to
delicately poke her finger into a cake to score the first bite.
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