Do You Know How Old My Mommy Is?

The Husby, The Fred, SweetBoy, and I spent most of Sunday out and about. One of our many stops was at Michael's (the store that is) to pick-up a few items. While we were waiting in the check-out line, two older women starting oohing and aahing over SweetBoy. One of the women asked how old he was, and after I responded, The Fred jumped up from the back of the cart and said, "Hey!" Not to be outdone, she said, "I'm two!" The Fred then looked at me, smiled, and said, "My Momma is forty-four!" What?! Both women just looked at me and smiled like I had just been called out by my two year old. I am unsure of where she got this from, but yesterday, she told a woman at UAB that I was thirty-five. Maybe, The Fred is just trying to force me to grow up. As much as I try to correct her, she insists that I am at least ten years older than I say I am. Oh, well...