I got a lovely email today from the administrators of the website Sixty and Me. Apparently, because my articles are going down a storm on their website, they have made me a “featured contributor”. I love titles and badges and stuff like that. It makes me feel very important indeed. Yes, of course I got a badge…and a banner.
Hope they don’t take my badge back off me.
A wealthy ninety years old tycoon is meeting with is financial advisor.
The advisor is very excited and tells the old man, ‘I just found out about an investment I can make for you which will double your money in just five years.’
‘Five years? Are you kidding?’ splutters the old man. ‘At my age, I don’t even buy green bananas.’
You know you’re over 60 when …
The phrase zero to 60 means your life is flashing before your eyes.
Your carefully saved nest egg has flown the coop.
You start getting asked for your identity card because cashiers want to make sure you’re old enough to qualify for the discount.
Instead of adding blueberries to your cornflakes, you just sprinkle them with your morning medications.
Your joints snap, crackle and pop more than your Rice Krispies.
Your ankles start sagging over the top of your anklets.
Your liver spots are starting to make you look like a Dalmatian dog.
Your gums have receded so far that you look like you could be the oldest cast member of Twilight.
You save a ton of money on shampoo, not because of your senior discount, but because you now have too little hair to bother with it.
You no longer need a spoon to stir the creamer in your coffee. You just pour the milk in and let your shaky hand do the job.
You go from wearing bifocals to wearing trifocals.
The 20-year-old clerk at the DMV thinks you’re joking when you say you are there to renew your driver’s license.
Your brand new lighter runs out of fluid before you can light all five-dozen candles on your cake.
Trying to remember what you wanted to wish for leaves the candles burning on your cake long enough to set off the smoke detector.
There are so many medication bottles in your bathroom cabinet that you no longer have room for cosmetics and toothpaste.
You start wondering who that old woman/man is looking in your window and realize you’re standing in front of the mirror.
You remember back to when you used to need a booster seat at restaurants, and realize that now you could use one to see over the dash on your car.
You used to make fun of adult diaper commercials, and now you’re clipping coupons for them “just in case.”
You look back fondly at your 40th birthday and laugh at all the trauma you felt about getting so old.
However there are bonuses of getting older:
Kidnappers are not very interested in you.
In a hostage situation you are likely to be released first.
No one expects you to run into a burning building.
There is nothing left to learn the hard way.
Things you buy now won’t wear out.
You can eat dinner at 4 P.M.
You can have a party and the neighbours won’t even realise it.
Your eyes won’t get much worse.
Your investment in health insurance is finally beginning to pay off.
Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can’t remember them either.
“How was your golf game, dear?” asked a wife.
“Well, I was hitting pretty well, but my eyesight’s got so bad I couldn’t see where the ball went.”
“But you’re seventy-five years old, Jack!” admonished his wife, “Why don’t you take my brother Scott along?”
“But he’s eighty-five and doesn’t even play golf anymore,” protested Jack.
“But he’s got perfect eyesight. He could watch your ball,” Tracy pointed out.
The next day Jack teed off with Scott looking on. Jack swung, and the ball disappeared down the middle of the fairway.
“Do you see it?” asked Jack.
“Yup,” Scott answered.
“Well, where is it?” yelled Jack, peering off into the distance.
If nothing else, remember to smile while you still have teeth