He’s constantly busy taking care of renovations to our house and the surrounding ten acres on which we live. Often it seems like he’s a perpetual motion machine.
Lately, though, his left knee has been hurting, which he finds very frustrating.
Today he remarked, after rubbing some generic Ben-Gay onto the offending appendage, that he would rather be 45 than going on 75. (In reality, he just had his 74th birthday in March.)
I replied by saying “I’m afraid that ship has sailed.”
His response was:
“Yeah, in the movie of my life, the credits are already rolling.”
Ha! Pretty wry observation, don’t you think?