One Hundred.

Meghan and I were talking about a man I knew who had a minor stroke and was in hospital, and now in a rehab, to help him get better. The man is nighty three.

Meghan then, talked about our puppy, “She will be with us for at least fifteen more year, as she is only one now.” Meghan told me how old she would be in fifteen years’ time, and I said, “Can you imagine yourself, that age?” She replied, “No.”

Meghan then asked me, “Can you imagine yourself age ninety-three?” I said, “No. I wouldn’t want to live that long.” She said, “Wouldn’t you want to get a letter from the King, at one hundred?” I said, by then it wouldn’t be the King, but probably Prince William’s son.”

I added, “But I suppose if I lived to be age ninety-nine, I would want to make it to one hundred.”

I said, “Really I wouldn’t want to be that age,” Meghan said, “Why not?” I said, “Because you are not in control of most things.” She said, “Some people are,” I answered her back, “But not most.”