"How old are you?" asked the 8 year old who was playing in the school yard alongside my granddaughter and a group of children on their recess break. Isla and I were interlopers on the school grounds yesterday, the lure of the climbers drawing Isla in like a magnet. She attends a French school so her summer vacation began two days ago while children attending English schools in Ottawa are in class until next Thursday.
"I'm 149," I answered with a straight face.
"Really!" the girl exclaimed. "149!"
"Yes," I replied. "I'm the same age as Canada. I live in Toronto but I came here to Ottawa to celebrate my birthday along with Canada next week."
"You're going to be 150," the girl cried out at the top of her lungs.
"Yup, on July 1st, just like Canada," I said, now wondering if my little white lie was just a bit over the top.
However before I could have an undo, the girl was calling her friends over to see the old man. Now I knew the joke was really on me as a score of innocent and astonished eyes beheld the 150 year old man. I wanted to crawl under a slide but the kids had me surrounded.
After a short awkward silence, an older girl piped with,
"Well if he's 150 years old, he's had some work done to his face."
I think that was a compliment but I'm still not sure. In a calm voice, I tried to reassure the kids that I was just joking.
Turning to my six year old granddaughter, I asked, "Isla, tell the kids how old I really am."
Without hesitation. she answered, "He's 109."
Yikes!
I can only imagine the conversations some of those kids had with their parents around the dinner table last night.
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