Growing Younger

It appears that my mother may be 2 years younger than she has been claiming most of her life.

This is quite some feat, considering women "of a certain age", when lying about their latest birthday, don't usually add two years to the total. Not so, it seems for my mother, who has been claiming she was born in 1946 on just about every record I've ever seen but now, in going through some legal records (birth, marriage certs etc..) it seems she was actually born in 1948.

How did this happen? You ask. Weeeeeeeeeeell, although Mummy dearest would claim otherwise, after a 45 minute phone conversation with her today (when she asked me not to blog this BTW - tee hee hee) the only thing I can deduce is that she simply lost count somewhere between 1969 and 2008.

Ahem.

In all fairness, I shouldn't put all the blame on her shoulders. My grandparents were alive when she celebrated her 30th and 40th birthdays and didn't raise any red flags, ditto for my father - although he mistakenly believed his birthday was in 1945 instead of 1946 until he was about 40 years old, so nobody was expecting very much from him.

So, as you can imagine, Mum is absolutely frothing at the bit to celebrate her 60th birthday a second time this year.

Unbelievable.