Gladys always insisted there was eleven. She just knew there were 11. She'd lived to the age of 97 with 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10...11. So there!

Gladys was no fool and even though folk would make fun of her and accuse her of being dyslexic with numbers, she knew what she knew and would never let those doubters change her decision no matter how hard they tried. At the age of 97, going on 3 years from 100 Gladys was the last one left of all the people she'd grewn up with who doubted her 11 calculation. Now she would share her numerical secret with Dotty, the cute little assistant at the old people's care home where she was happily living out her last days. Gladys unclenched the fist of her left hand and with a great big smile and a hiccup of laughter shouted out to Dotty..."I've got an extra digit!" Dotty, the assistant was fascinated and counted Gladys's fingers, confirming that indeed she had 11 of them in total. "That deserves an extra portion of apple pie and custard, with a great big dollop of double cream!"