My brother (well, stepbrother, but that seems a silly word for him somehow and we call each other “brother” and “sister now – even “bro” and “sis” in a kind of self-conscious, auditioning-for-Leave-it-to-Beaver kind of way now) is making a brief, work-related visit to us. Â We stayed up rather too late last night, but a snippet of our conversation remains in my head while he’s still sleeping:
Me: “…Well, after all, I am middle-aged.”
Bri: “You’re not middle aged!”
Me: “Dude. Â I’m 41.”
Bri: “Well, if you’re going by numbers…”
Love that guy.
I like to think that since most people in my family live to at least 95, then i will not be middle aged until i am 47 and a half years old……talking numbers that is :)
My father likes to say that middle age is the point halfway between your current age and your life expectancy. So If I’m 41 and I expect to live to 90 (that’s how old my maternal grandmother lived to be) then middle age is 66. I’m cool with that.