Two guys are talking about their boss's upcoming wedding. One says, "It's ridiculous, he's rich, but he's 93 years old, and she's just 26! What kind of a wedding is that?"
The other says, "Well, we have a name for it in my family."
"What do you call it?"
"We call it a football wedding."
The first asks, "What's a football wedding?"
The other says, "She's waiting for him to kick off!"
An elderly gentleman was reading his recovery-room record at the hospital where I work. He looked quite concerned at one notation.
"I know I was in a bit of a muddle, but I didn't realize I was that bad," he said to me apologetically. "I hope I didn't offend anyone."
He was greatly relieved when I explained the acronym in question meant "Short Of Breath" and not what he thought.
Out bicycling one day with my eight-year-old granddaughter, Carolyn, I got a little wistful.
"In ten years," I began, "you'll want to be with your friends and you won't go walking, biking, and swimming with me like you do now."
Carolyn shrugged, "That's okay, because in ten years you'll be too old to do all those things anyway."
It was Grandpa Jones' 100th birthday and he was still in perfect health. At his birthday party he was asked how he managed to live so long and stay so fit.
He explained, "I put my long life down to spending so much time outdoors. I've been in the open air, day after day, rain or shine, for the last 75th years."
"How do you manage to keep up such a rigorous fitness regime?" they asked.
"It's simple," he said. "When I married my wife 75 years ago, we both made a solemn pledge. We agreed that whenever we had a fight, whoever was proved wrong would go outside and take a long walk."