I forgot one funny thing that happened at the funeral. I was looking at a nice photo display, showing some of the things Aunt Honey had done in her life. She was an avid traveler so there were photos of her sitting on a glacier, snorkeling with tropical fish, riding a donkey, crossing a gorge on a rope ladder, all kinds of things. Anyway Honey's four year old granddaughter Samantha came over to look at the photos too, spotted my nose ring, and we had the following conversation:
"Why do you have an earring in your nose?"
I wear it in my nose instead of my ears. See? My ears aren't pierced.
"How old are you? My mom says I can't get my belly button pierced until I'm older."
I'm 36. You have to wait until you're 36, like me.
[At this Samantha's father whispered "Thank you!" to me.]
"36!?! My mom said I only had to wait until I was 16."
At this point Samantha ran off to ask her mother whether she really had to wait 20 years longer than expected for her belly button piercing. I'm not sure what her mother said, but after the lunch I went up to Samantha and asked her if she would show me her piercing after she turned 36. All she would say was to repeat "36!?!" To a four year old that must seem ancient, practically one foot in the grave.
When I was starting Little League, they asked me what number I wanted and I proudly announced, "36, because that's how old my Mom is!" Mom was mortified when I told her this on the way home.
I think you actually have to pass 30 to think that 36 is not so ancient.