Everything hurts. What doesn’t hurt, doesn’t work.
The gleam in your eyes is the sun shining through your bifocals.
You feel like the morning after, but you haven’t been anywhere.
Your children begin to look middle-aged.
You join a health club, but don’t go.
You have all the answers, but nobody asks you the questions.
You look forward to a dull evening.
You need glasses to find your glasses.
You turn out the light for economy not romance.
You sit in a rocking chair, but you can’t make it go.
You sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there.
Your house is too big, and the medicine cupboard is not big enough.
Your birthday cake collapses from the weight of the candles.
