I can't remember how old I am, either

Doris Tipton
Grandmother

Good heavens, all of you people. The last 24 hours have shown the picky nature of the human race.

Don't tell me you've never forgotten anything before. I know many of you have forgotten where your keys are, or what you had for breakfast, or your daughter's name at Thanksgiving dinner.

So I want you all to lay off that nice, young Dominican boy who says he didn't know how old he was.

You baseball fans are riding his behind like he's some sort of murderer or something!

Good golly, cut the young man some slack. Personally, I have no idea how old I am. And so I have total empathy for Miguel, or Juan, or whatever his name is.

Besides, he was only saying he's 31 when he's 33. That's nothing! That's a fart in the wind for an old biddy like me.

Each day -- as I drag my creaky ass out of my bed and grab my walker so I can spend the next 10 hours shuffling around this goddamn forsaken "retirement home" what's-her-name put me in after my dear Russell died, as I just bide my time until I die, at which point my children can forever be rid of their guilt-riddled obligation to visit me each Sunday afternoon so they can stay on my good side and collect their inheritance, which I imagine what's-her-name's husband will probably blow on some uptown whore -- I forget how old I am.

People tell me different things. I've heard I was born as early as 1902, the year the very first movie theater in the United States opened. That would make me 106 years old, depending on when my birthday is, which I think is sometime in the late spring, possibly May. But then again, maybe my birthday is in August. Sometimes it seems awful humid around my birthday because my hip flares up to the size of a musk melon.

Then again, I was recently told I was born in 1927, the year of the great Mississippi flood, which would only make me 81 years old.

See? I have no idea how old I am. And none of you baseball fans are futzing around and being concerned about my age So why waste your time with Pedro, or Rafael, or whatever his name is?

Age is just a number, children. Don't let it run your life, because you are only as old as you feel. And today, I feel 174 years old. So leave me the hell alone.