Uncle Bill's birthday is this Saturday, as you all know. In recognition of this, and based on my own experiences as a senior citizen, I offer the following observations.
YOU KNOW YOU'RE GROWING OLDER WHEN . . .
The gleam in your eye is from the sun hitting your bifocals.
Your little black book contains only names ending in M.D.
You get winded playing chess.
You look forward to a dull evening.
You turn out the light for economic reasons rather than romantic ones.
Your knees buckle and your belt won't.
Dialing long distance wears you out.
You can't stand intolerant people.
You stop looking forward to your next birthday.
Everything hurts and what doesn't hurt, doesn't work.
You sit in a rocking chair and can't get it going.
The best part of the day is over when your alarm clock goes off.
Your back goes out more than you do.
The little old lady you help across the street is your wife.
You have too much room in the house and not enough in the medicine cabinet.
YOU KNOW YOU'RE GROWING OLDER WHEN . . .
The gleam in your eye is from the sun hitting your bifocals.
Your little black book contains only names ending in M.D.
You get winded playing chess.
You look forward to a dull evening.
You turn out the light for economic reasons rather than romantic ones.
Your knees buckle and your belt won't.
Dialing long distance wears you out.
You can't stand intolerant people.
You stop looking forward to your next birthday.
Everything hurts and what doesn't hurt, doesn't work.
You sit in a rocking chair and can't get it going.
The best part of the day is over when your alarm clock goes off.
Your back goes out more than you do.
The little old lady you help across the street is your wife.
You have too much room in the house and not enough in the medicine cabinet.
