It's just a number...

You know growing up I always found it odd my dad had to think about my age. I mean come on I was his only son. His lil' man - his spittin' image. Why was this SO hard for him...

When I was a toddler I had my age. Everyone would ask "How old are you?" Ha! I can answer that on one hand - how hard is this?

As I grew older I had my birthday - no big deal - four digits - six if you want the "19" on the year.

Then came kindergarten. What's you address? Hmmm, ok that's a little more. And you wanna know my phone number too!?! Oh well I can handle it. What! A school bus number! You people really know how to push it!

Then I got a sister. "How old is your little sister?" Hey she was blessed with 10 fingers ask her yourself.

And as time went more and more...

I don't go a day without some one, somewhere asking "What's your PIN number, debit card number, bank account number, address, cell number, fax number, work number, driver license number, SS number, anniversary, license plate number, locker combination, credit cards number, utility account numbers, IQ, cholestrol count, zip code, tee time, gas mileage, weight, height,...?" Or thousands of others.

And I am proud to say I can answer all of those questions, but for the love of Pete do you think I can remember my daughter's age...?