Isn't it odd what a fascination the subject of ages has for one's elderly relatives?
Not that you are seeking to conceal any facts, but once during each call or visit having discussed the matter and resigned yourself to having even the servants know that you were 29 or 31 last March, it does seem that the theme might he dropped.
No matter how craftily the conversation is veered off, back the old folks prance to the juicy topic, and you are hauled up again and again to prove the date of the birth of Amelia's Georgie by the fact that you were 11 when he was born, which makes him so old last October, and refreshes their minds as to the age of Mary's Ella, because you are 15 months her senior.
Somehow you are always older than anybody else. — Polly Pry in New York Recorder.
Saturday, September 6, 2008