(while discussing how many days of school are left)
Sam: "Too bad the last day of school isn't my birthday. My birthday is the week next."
Me: "Yes. The last day of school is actually MY birthday."
Sally: "Yeah, and you'll be FORTY!" (my age delights her)
Sam: (pausing for effect, and totally serious) "Really? I thought you were going to be twenty-nine again."
Me: "Sam. I love you."
Sally: (rolling her eyes) "You know he doesn't mean that!"
Me: "Doesn't matter. I love compliments of any kind. Compliments and chocolates."
Sam: (pretending to be confused) "What?"
(The really funny part about all of this is that I have never joked about being twenty-nine again or celebrating the anniversary of my twenty-ninth birthday. I don't know where he gets this stuff.)