A few years ago, (I won’t say how many), I called my mother to wish her a Happy New Year. She thanked me, and in a sing-song voice that only a mother could use (a voice that makes a middle-aged man feel like a 6-year-old) she asked me, “So whooose got a birthday coming soon?” Being a January baby, I answered, “That would be me Mom, I am going to be fifty!”
There was a pause, and then a painful response, “Oh no, Keith, you can’t be fifty!” she sounded as if I shot her in the chest with an arrow. Her response caught me off guard until I realized that my mother gave birth to me when she was thirty, and well, you can do the math.
Trying to assuage her, I said “It’s OK Mom, people tell me that I don’t look fifty, and I tell them it is because I have my mother’s skin! “That’s nice son,” she responded disheartedly.
I pressed on, “And Mom, I don’t feel like I’m fifty!” “That’s good,” she said, in the same tone of voice, making me feel even more horrible.
Finally, lowering my voice to a whisper, I said, “And Mom, you know I don’t act like I am fifty.” She snapped back, and in a loud, pedantic tone chastised me saying, “No, you don’t son, and your sisters and I pray for you every single day!”
This summer, my youngest son Drew turned thirty. He is a July baby, and since we have a backyard and a pool, he asked my wife and I if he could invite his friends over for a birthday party. I said, “Of course,” while my wife stood dazed and speechless. Finally, she said, “OH NO! MY BABY IS TURNING THIRTY???”
As one of my professors used to say, “the barrel rolls”.
Best wishes for a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Happy Kwanza
Keith J. Ahlers
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