I am Robert Sheldon, the world's greatest detective. No case of mine has gone unsolved. Well, except for one.
I can't remember how old I am.
In an attempt to find out, I decided to explore the mansion and interrogate guests. I started with my brother.
"Graham, how old am I?" I asked.
"I don't remember. You can't be more than two or three years older than me, though."
"I see." I decided to ask my butler next.
"Alfred, how old am I?" I asked.
"Sir, I have no clue. Perhaps looking through your personal information would help."
"Excellent idea," I agreed. "I'll go look now."
I climbed up to where I store my private documents. I skimmed through the pile, looking for anything with my age on it. Nothing.
I then remembered there was a fortune-teller in town. I decided I could ask her.
"What do you wish to know?" she asked as I sat down across from her.
"I want to know how old I am."
She picked up her crystal ball and shook it.
"Reply hazy, try again later."
"What do you mean? I just want to know how old I am."
"Unlikely."
"You're of no help to me." I stood up and left.
"Undecidedly so!" she yelled as I walked out of the tent. Then I saw the library.
The library! Of course! I could look there. But wait... That wouldn't work. They don't have my age there.
Oh well. I headed home, still pondering. I walked into my dining room and turned on the light, when I suddenly remembered. I was-
"Surprise! Happy birthday!"