You know how some people have kids and you'll ask, "How old is he," politely because you don't really give a shit? And they'll answer, "Twenty-two months."
"Two years old" will do. "Almost two," will do. Twenty-two months assumes that you think your kid is as cute as my kid and honey, that ain't gonna happen. (You're also showing off because I don't really REMEMBER how old my kids are without doing the math. If you're really interested, you need to ask the kid. I have to remember to feed them every day...birthdays are extra.)
Anyway. I was in the doctor's office yesterday and there was a conversation going on out in the hall. And a nurse asked this elderly man how old he was and he answered, "Seventy-eight years and ten months."
And I realized, it's all a matter of perspective. Old people and young people are hanging on to every minute they can...the rest of us are wandering around assuming we're immortal. Wasting time. Seventy-eight years and ten months....you gotta love a man who's making the most out of every moment!