As a kid, I loved my youth. When my peers were saying they were six and a half or seven and three quarters, I kept my age until the day before my birthday. I was proud of what I had done at an early age, and I made the most of it. If you had asked me the day before I turned ten how old I was, I would have said simply "nine."
I received my first nice knife before I turned five. (It's now upstairs next to my bed.) It sounded better to say "four" than "before I turned five," so I did. The same held true as I kept on doing things at a young age. I became a certified scuba diver before I turned ten. I started college before I turned eighteen, and graduate school before I turned twenty-one. I started teaching college before I turned twenty-two. I joined the honors faculty of my local college before I turned twenty-six.
By then I was married, and my focus was on my wife and kids. Years went by. I was no longer especially young, and I wasn't accomplishing much except for raising my kids.
Last week, my kids and I walked into a mall and were stopped by someone taking a survey. He asked me how old I was. "Thirty-five," I answered. He looked at me for a moment.
"You're already thirty-five?"
"Well, actually, I turn thirty-five in about four days. My birthday is the 30th." He was glad. He needed some answers from someone in the 25-34 age group, and I just barely squeaked by. (Incidentally, I found out that there's a new movie coming up with Bill Murray and Jeff Goldblum. He asked if I would want to see it. I said yes.)
I'm no longer young enough to take pride in my youth, so now I'm taking pride in my aging. If I jump the gun by a few days and say I'm thirty-five before I am, that's one sign of it. In a couple of years, I'll probably say I'm pushing 40.
I'm looking forward to it.