Back when Treat was three, and his older brother was six, he hatched a plan to become the senior sibling simply by saying so. When anyone asked the adorable toddler how old he was, he would answer, "I'm seven."
In the inevitable confusion his response caused, my brother taught him to add, "Technically, I'm three, but I'm really seven."
Treat turned 29 a few days ago, but he told us he considers himself 30, a notion which has something to do with realizing a couple of years ago that 27 was not really mid-, but rather late-twenties. He does, however, plan to be 30 for a couple of years or so, or at least until "mid-thirties" is unquestionably accurate.
Because, honestly? Who cares?
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