I had an appointment at the hospital yesterday – thankfully it was nothing to worry about and it was all fine but when the lady asked me how old I was I had to pause and think about it.

I told her I was 37. I was convinced I wasn’t 38 until next year until she double checked my date of birth and politely told me that I was already 38 and would be 39 next year.

Oh.

I can’t actually remember the last time I was asked my actual age. Yes, you might have to put down your date of birth for forms and some you just have to tick a box “35 and over” or something like that.

I told the lady I am hardly ever asked my age anymore so it’s just not something that rolls off my tongue.

I was forever asked for I.D when I was younger. Back in the day when you had to get hold of a fake student card to get into pubs. Memorising your year of birth AND the star sign just in case they tried to catch you out.

At 18 I was asked for buying a lottery ticket (you had to be 16 or over to buy one) and pretty much my whole time at university was spent showing my UCAS card before being allowed into clubs. Then, when I got my first job it was in pubs where it was embarrassing being asked by student bar workers who were clearly younger than you for identification.

I hit my late 20s and finally I stopped getting asked which made a refreshing change.

We went to an 18th Birthday party at the weekend. It was Mr H’s school friends daughter. I mean how has that happened? The DJ played loads of old tunes that I clearly remember dancing to when I went to 18th Birthday parties

Before long, I’ll be sitting in the corner moaning about how loud the music is and talking very loudly and inappropriately. I might not be young anymore but I’m certainly looking forward to being able to do that!