You know that you are getting old when . . .
Everywhere you go, people tell you how good you look.
“Gosh, you look good. Martha, doesn’t he look good?”
“Oh yes,” says Martha, “you look good.”
When people find out how old you are, they tell you, “You don’t look your age.”
People always offer you a seat on crowded busses.
You live in an old-age home.
You spend your vacation in a rocking chair on your front porch.
Your salt and pepper shakers start going senile. (Don’t worry, like you, I don’t get this joke.)
You have 147 years of experience in everything you do.
You smell of urine.
Your farts come out using walkers.
The noises you make while Number One or Number Twoing are the same noises you made years ago while having sex.
You do not know the person in the mirror.
Undertakers start following you.
You think it is 2017.
You think it is 2017.
You repeat yourself.
You go to more funerals than weddings.
