At 43 I am now beyond the age when some people consider lying about their age. I have been turning it over in my mind and have decided I’m going to do the same. I’m going to start telling people I’m 50. Now you may be asking yourself – isn’t it supposed to work the other way? Aren’t you supposed to tell everyone you’re 29? Well, in my opinion that is a bad strategy. Let me explain.

I figure if I tell everyone I am 29 the only thing they are going to think is “What the hell kind of accident were you in lady? It must have been a humdinger for it to have carved all those lines in your face and made you so crabby.” There will be pity and headshaking after I leave the room. But if I tell people I’m a half dollar. They may think “Hey, she’s not doing too badly for 50.”

See, isn’t that better? Plus I look younger than I am. People are always telling me I look 41 and a half. Bonus. Just makes my 50 seem all the more like an accomplishment.

I should start dropping peri and post-menopausal symptoms into conversations now and then. I better figure out what year I would have graduated and bone up on what I would have been doing when Ronald Reagan was shot. I’m pretty sure I was still playing dolls with my friends, and that certainly won’t fly. I might make up some fake grown up children that live out state and why not some gifted grandchildren as well? As long as I am deceiving everyone, may as well make it worth my while.

When I really do turn 50 it will be no big deal. I will be a phony 57 by then. I will have dealt with all the stuff that goes along with being in my 50’s for years. I’m really ahead of the game.

I could start quoting Molly Shannon’s character from Saturday Night Live, Sally O’Malley, “I’m Fifty! I like to KICK and to STRETCH!” (Although kicking and stretching have become somewhat risky, even at 43.) On a side note, I ran around the house in the days before my husband really turned 50 quoting Sally O’Malley to him. This did not go over well.

I suppose there could be some issues with my theory. My son is only 10, but lots of people have kids pretty late in life these days. I can side step that one with the “accident” excuse. My 25 year class reunion is coming up. No fooling these folks. Maybe I’ll wait until that event is over to start this whole operation. Then there’s my mom – Questions to her could arise. I could ask but I’m pretty sure she won’t make herself 7 years older for my scheme. There is the matter of the the rest of my family and friends, I’m sure they have some idea of my age, none of them is that clueless. So all of this would just be for the benefit of new people I meet. But what if they mingle with the people I already know, and what if they start up a conversation about how great I’m holding up for 50? What if people start wondering when my perfect grandchildren are coming to visit and why don’t I have some sort of room set up for them? Or even send them a measly Christmas card. Hey, I’ve seen this sitcom. Maybe I better rethink this.

I guess there will be no Sally O’Malley or fake genius grandkids. (I will miss them the most) No reworking of history. I will just keep blabbing my true age from my 41 year old looking mouth and take what I can get. Maybe the best I can hope for is when I really do turn 50 the gap hasn’t closed too much and I can get away with 51 and a half.