The waitress called me "Sweetie"! She didn't know how close she was to having a plate full of chicken wings thrown at her as she walked away from our table. My hair isn't gray. I died it. My clothes are young looking. My wrinkles are skillfully concealed. What's wrong with her eyes? What's her problem?
You know you're old when people call you "sweetie."
You know you're old when the kids (babies really) behind the counter at McDonalds hand you the senior size cup.
You know you're old when you realize all the cars are passing you because you're not in a hurry.
You know you're old when your children want you to enjoy life.
You know you're old when you look at your friends. I won't go there.
When did this happen? I'm still having fun. I'm not old!
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