I'm going to tell a little tale about my childhood... and how traumatic it was.

Do you remember how as a child it was so cool to talk about your parents' age? Yeah, so do I. And so when I was in Kindergarten I went home and asked my mother how old she was. And because she is a sweet mommy, she told me that she was 99 years of age.

So the next time when my peers began discussing the age of their parents, on the van ride to our after school care, I volunteered the information that my mother was 99. I thought I had won the prize - I had the oldest parent. I was so cool. And so happy.

But then this girl turned around and said something along the lines of, "your mom is going to die when she turns 100." I suppose that is how a young one's logic functions. 100 is the limit - there is nothing after 100.

So I took this new information presented to me as the absolute truth. I believed this with my entire being, and I was sad. I seriously thought my mother was going to die on her next birthday.

When I got home that evening, I threw myself onto my parents' bed and became hysterical. I was sobbing and inconsolable, and my mother was trying to figure out why. She finally figured out that I was sad because I thought she was going to die on her next birthday. Which was apparently hilarious to her. And my father.

It was finally explained to me that my mother wasn't 99 years old,  and even if she had been she probably wouldn't have died on her 100th birthday. Didn't matter to me then; I was quite distraught.

Moral of this story: don't lie to your kids, unless you want something really funny to happen.