I remember when I was in the 6th grade, sitting on the playground with my very best preteen friend, Laura Frost, and mentioning that it was my mom's birthday.

"Oh really?" She asked. "How old is your mom?"

I remember being slightly embarrassed and rolling my eyes and saying, "Oh my gosh, she is really old. She is 32 now."

Then Laura's face turned beet red and she said, "Uh... my mom had me when she was 32... she is 44 now."

I was horrified. How could Mrs. Frost, who was soon to be my 7th grade English teacher, be so CARELESS to have a child so late in life??? I remember laying awake that night and wondering if decrepit "old" Mrs. Frost would live to see and enjoy her grandchildren. I mean, my mom was OLD, but dear heavens!!! Having children at 32????

I turned 32 yesterday. I don't know whether to laugh at my innocence, or cry at how my child must see me.

Even now, when someone asks, "How old are you?" my immediate response is "Twen... Thirty... one." I still feel 26. How long is that going to get me through?

Better old than dead.