I’m not sure but I may becoming somewhat obnoxious in my old age. Well, more obnoxious for those of you who already know me well.

It would seem that getting older has it’s perks and speaking your mind, expressing your humour and going to bed in the middle of conversations is part of that.

And, I confess, I like that. Shoulda taken it up a long time ago.

Tho I must also confess to hoping for a merciful death early should I ever take up the oldster’s habit of relinquishing control over bodily functions. Running loose at the mouth, I hear, is the first of the prime functions to go.

Our W’fers are very nice, smart and mature. But still only 28 and ‘new’ to us. So my making reference to woman’s body parts and cracking jokes to them is not what you might consider polite company at the very least. And, in our modern politically correct society it is probably a real no-no.

Well, I have sensed that, anyway. I could be wrong.

Don’t get me wrong. I am no boor. I am not gross. Nor vulgar. Well,not really (maybe a smidge). But I am weak. What could I do?

Lindsay, it seems, is very flexible. Verging on double-jointed (double^jointed?). And she went to Yoga with Sally and bent herself up like a twizzler. Then she came home and demonstrated by hyper-extending her elbows so that she held her arm in the ‘Vulture’ pose. Very cool.

I’m sorry. But I just had to say ‘stuff’. Nothing bad. Not really. Funny stuff, I think. Just ‘stuff’. Like: “Ooh, Dave. Yoga is great for her. Encourage it. Very healthy for her. But better for you. He he he” (nudge, nudge, say no more, eh? Wink, wink.).

And I had a scotch or two which didn’t help the ‘image’. Plus I was tired and red-faced. I probably looked like a leering old fool. (Don’t say it!)

And then I went to bed. It was before nine and I was tired. Plus Sally was looking ‘daggers’ at me. I came out in my house coat to say ‘goodnight’ (nudge, nudge. Wink, wink, eh?)

All in all…………I am thinking: ……………obnoxious.

But it is also freeing. Ya know? Walkin’ around in your house coat, crackin’ bad jokes that seem (definitely) to appeal only to me. Going to bed when I want. Not really caring about the impression I make……….

What’s not to like?

Getting old is not so great. Not really. Lots of aches and pains. The only consolation is: I can share the pain with others by being myself.

Seems fair to me.