During lunch, a little girl asks her mothers if they had been alive in 1995. They had. One of them informs her daughter that, in fact, she was born in 1974. The girl receives this information with speechless, open-mouthed astonishment.
There is some subsequent discussion of people they know who had been born in the '90s, followed by a longish math interlude where the girl tries to determine how old she would be now if she were born in 1995. (In the interest of full disclosure, I will tell you that I was not much swifter reaching the answer than she was. I have not been able to do any moderately speedy subtraction of this type since 1999. Now we have to do all that borrowing from the 2 to make 10, and then borrowing from the 10, etc., etc. It's a nightmare.)
The girl's younger sister, who looks to be about four, has not had much to say during all this. Her mother turns to her and asks, "And what year were you born?"
Very matter-of-factly and without hesitation, she replies, "1952."