The Lie About My Age

I’ve been telling people I’m 72 instead of 75 for a few years now. Just didn’t feel ready to admit three digits in my age, you know? I mean, who wouldn’t want to avoid the mid-70s like the plague? It’s one thing when people think you’re an antique, but another to sound ancient already. But every time I fib about it, a little voice in my head reminds me of my dear friend Mary, who turned 85 last year and looks as vibrant as ever. What am I really worried about, honestly?