Now I get it.

I had driven my father's Aunt Ella to a wake for some relative, whose wake it was I no longer recall.  I do remember one of the other mourners recognizing Aunt Ella, and coming over to greet her.  "You look great," she said, " Nobody would ever think you're ninety-five years old!"  Aunt Ella drew herself up, indignant:   "Well, I'm only 92," she said in no uncertain terms.  "Ninety-five! I'm not that old!"