HOW TO KNOW YOU'RE GROWING OLD Everything hurts, and what doesn't hurt doesn't work.

HOW TO KNOW YOU'RE GROWING OLD

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 children begin to look middle-aged.
You've finally reached the top of the ladder only to find it's leaning
against the wrong wall.
Your mind makes contracts your body can't keep.
You look forward to a dull evening.
You turn out the lights for economic reasons.
You sit in the rocking chair and can't get it going....
Your knees buckle, but your belt won't.
You regret all those mistakes you made resisting temptation.
You're 17 around the nick, 42 around the waist, and 96 on the golf course.
Your pacemaker makes the garage door open 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 room in the medicine
cabinet.
You know all the answers, but nobody asks the questions.
Your broad mind and narrow waist have exchanged places