Posted by: Bonnie Anderson | June 5, 2012

Mind Games

I came across a quote from Satchel Paige, renowned pitcher and member of the Baseball Hall of Fame.  “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?”

After thinking about it, I decided my age then I asked Bob hold old he would be.  His answer – 45.  He even said it with satisfaction and that’s when it dawned on me – 45 was over a decade ago.  Sigh…

I picked 35 as the age I would be if I didn’t know how old I really was.  I was disappointed that Bob was ten years older in his mind than I was in mine until he told me how happy he was to have a young, smoking hot wife.  I thanked him and reminded him, “that’s just in your mind.”  But on further consideration, I think I like these mind games.

Happily Confused About our Age


  1. Very cute… have no idea what age I would be … maybe not the age 57 that I am but in reality my goal is to be a ‘fit’ younger looking 60 year old. (not in a ‘made up bad way’ of course.) we all have seen THOSE.

    • I’m with you, Sharon. I just turned 56 and as I help care for Bob’s and my 80-year old parents, I think I need to make a similar goal. One of the good things for me about being this age is I don’t care so much about being made up. It’s so freeing!

  2. Amen! Having a husband think of you as a young smoking hot wife is a good thing to have.

    • Yes it is, Shawn. I’m blessed (and his eyesight isn’t what it used to be either!).

  3. WE can only hope that our minds never catch up with our bodies !!
    r “old” friend

  4. I’ve been dwelling on this post since I read it in my inbox. I certainly don’t mentally “feel” 48, but my thumb feels broken for no apparent reason, my hip has ground glass grinding away and my knee has lightning bolts shooting through it at the most embarrassing times (yelping in public is demeaning). So, except all those ancient bits, I think I’m 38 in my head. Except I remembered a lot more when I was 38. I was also firm in my convictions at 38, and other than my faith in Christ, the rest seems wishy-washy.

    So maybe I’m a youthful 48, which means I’m still excited when I see gray hair coming in and becoming reconciled to the extra poundage around my middle. And though Lynette would never believe me, I still see a twenty-something when I look at her. So if that’s mental infirmity, bring it on!

    • I think mental infirmity is just fine when it comes to being in love with your wife. I don’t understand being excited about seing gray hair coming in, but maybe that’s more of a female thing.

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