My parents met just after WWII. They married in their mid-thirties and had five children, three of whom were born after my mother turned 40. She was 44 when she had me. My son was born when I was 35, so we’re familiar with the older parent thing. People should mind their own business. A boy I sat next to in school said he saw my mother and she was so old, she’d be dead before I graduated from high school. Nice, huh? (For the record:, she outlasted his mother by 20 years.)