You know you’re getting old when …
Everything hurts; and what doesn’t hurt, doesn’t work.
The gleam in your eyes is from the sun hitting your bifocals.
You feel like the morning after and you haven’t been anywhere.
Your little black book contains only names ending in M.D.
Your children begin to look middle aged.
You finally reach the top of the ladder and find it leaning against the wrong wall.
Your mind makes contracts that your body can’t meet.
You look forward to a dull evening.
Your favorite part of the newspaper is “20 years ago today.”
You turn out the lights for economic rather than romantic reasons.
You sit in a rocking chair and can’t get it going.
Your knees buckle and your belt won’t.
You regret all those mistakes you made resisting temptation.
You’re 17 around the neck, 42 around the waist, and 106 around the golf course.
Your back goes out more than you do.
A fortune teller offers to read your face.
Your pacemaker makes the garage door go up when you see a pretty girl.
The little old gray haired lady you help across the street is your wife.
You sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there.
You have too much room in the house and not enough in the medicine cabinet.
You know all the answers but nobody asks you the questions.