I've been lying about my age... to my 8 year old. It began so innocently, like any good old fashioned deception... Three years ago, on my birthday, Kid Two asked me how old I was. I told him to guess. I know...that was really taking a risk, because if he had said fifty-three I would have locked myself in my room with a magnum of wine and a straw and ugly cried. He didn't even have to think. "Thirty". I was actually thirty-six, so I was all flattered and everything. He was 5 at the time, so the fact that I like, "believed" he knew what he was talking about says a lot about how lame I am. Here's where I get even lamer(That is a real word according to Urban Dictionary)... I totally told him he was right . And then I hugged him and he became my favorite child. My 40th(it really hurt to type that) will have its way with me in 5 months. Mark and my well meaning family have been talking about it in the presence of myself(like I died already or something)...