"I’ll be one hundred years old on my next birthday, you know."
"Really, Grandma? I thought you were only going to be ninety-eight. Weren’t you born in 1914?"
"No, honey, it was 1912… I think…" She thought for a moment, trying to remember. "Well, I’ll be close to 100—maybe even just past it."
"You don’t know for sure, Grandma?"
"When I was in my teens and early twenties," the old woman sighed, "I always added a few years. Then in my thirties I started taking some away… And at 90 people start getting that birthday card from the President…"
