When I'm 64

Yesterday was a bit of a blur: a fabulous all-day freelance meeting in Chicago, delivery of Ellie's new bed, disassembly of the crib, then dinner (read: guacamole and margaritas) and the Cardinals in the playoffs—all with a healthy dose of celebrating my birthday.
Ellie had marked the day on her mental calendar, and asked me repeatedly if it was my birthday. I'd confirm, then ask how old I am. "64!" she replied each time.

Will tried to temper her... misunderstanding:
A long but wonderful day. Happy 64th-less-thirty birthday to me!