In 1979, we moved from Mannheim, Germany, to Columbus, Georgia. The cutoff date for starting school was different in Georgia. According to the school rules, I was not old enough to start first grade and had to repeat kindergarten.
Mom disagreed with that policy, so she decided to lie about my age. She told the administrators she didn’t have all the documents they requested, due to the move and would bring them later. Since the school was located near a military base, this was a reasonable story and not uncommon.
Several months went by and I was sitting in class. The teacher asked, “Who knows their birthday?”
My hand shot up in the air and I said, “September 10, 1973.”
My teacher said I was wrong, but I was adamant about it. An argument ensued and I refused to even acknowledge the possibility that I was wrong.
The teacher had a talk with Mom when she came to pick me up that day. Mom played it off by saying her birthday is in September and I was probably just confused. She told the teacher I was born August 10, 1973.
We get home and Mom sits down with me for a talk. She explained the situation. I was confused, but agreed to keep my birthday a secret.
In 1980, we moved back to Germany and my age was never again a problem.