At the time, I knew how old I was, and I knew how much younger he was, so I clued him into the fact that he was about to turn 39, not 40. If I remember correctly, he had the party anyway. Our mother never knew her own age, either. When I still knew my own age I was able to pitch in with the correct information.
All of the above is to let you know two things:
- I once knew how old I was; and
- I have not totally escaped my genetic inheritance.
I discovered the truth when I attempted to figure out the age of my Siamese cat Beanie. Of course, I did not know/remember how old I was when Beanie was born. Initially, I thought I got her two years before I moved to Canada, which would make her 12. Then I came upon a picture of her at my son's high school graduation party. I knew my son was 19 at the time. However, I didn't remember what year he was born, so I couldn't figure out what year he was graduated from high school.
Fortunately, I still knew how old my mother was when I was born and I also knew that I had my first (and only) born a year later than did my mom. That means that I was 22 when my son was born. As I also remembered that I was born in 1952, that meant that my son was born in October 1974. Extrapolating from that, I knew that the grad party must have taken place in June 1994. Beanie looks about three months old in the picture, which means that Beanie recently turned 16.
2010-1994=16
2010-1952=58 (but not until June)
Genetics or bad math skills? You be the judge.