In which we consider our age

So, our friends have started turning 40. Actually, who am I kidding, most of our friends are already 40 - we're sort of at the tail end. But another one did turn 40 recently, though that in and of itself was not so surprising. He's the kind of guy who's always seemed grown up in the way that we imagined adults to have been in earlier times; he addresses his oldest boy as "Son", he believes strongly in corporal punishment, and he's convinced that no matter his creaking knees, he would be an all star if he were allowed to play in the WNBA. He's also one of those guys who's had grey hair since he was 28, and as he turns 40 is rocking a sort of hybrid Anderson Cooper/John Wayne look - gravitas has come pretty naturally to him, which came to his advantage in the cut-throat world of Oakland public school PTA politics. So anyway, this friend just turned 40, and his wife threw him a massive party. He's one of 8 kids, so family alone would make for a big party, but he had to rent a park in order to fit in all of his friends. Lisa, being awesome, offered to make him a cake, a picture of which is attached. The bottom layer is your typical old guys shaking canes and presumably shouting something along the lines of "Get off my lawn!" The middle layer is a box of depends, the top a prescription bottle of Viagra. Every kid at the party, and there were many, demanded a blue candy to eat. Every grown up at the party, at one time or another, tried to get our friend to pose while eating a blue pill - he graciously ate about 40 of them, to the mortification of his wife. So being 1974 babies, our year is next year. I won't be able to make her a cake like this, but it doesn't matter, as she's made me promise I'll always tell everyone she's 27. I'm OK with that, as long as she makes me a cake for my birthday.