Last week, I turned 24 years old. I had assumed that this was a fairly unimportant milestone. I was past 21, but not quite at a quarter century. I like these types of birthdays because no one is harassing you to throw age specific parties that involve things that I dislike immensely. Well, I have discovered that I was terribly wrong. Turning 24 has placed me in the “legitimate” age range for having lots and lots of babies.