Yesterday my daughter e-mailed me, again, asking why I didn't do something
useful with my time, like sitting on the porch and drinking beer isn't a
good thing.
Talking about my "doing-something-useful" seems to be her favorite topic of
conversation.
She is "only thinking of me," she said, and suggested, I go down to the
Senior Center and hang out with the fellas.
So I did, and when I got home, decided to play a prank on her. I sent her an
e-mail saying that I had joined the Senior Parachute Club.
She replied, "Are you nuts? You're 80 years old and now you're going to
start jumping out of airplanes?
I told her that I even had a membership card and e-mailed a copy to her.
Immediately, she telephoned me and yelled, "Good grief, Dad, where are your
glasses?! This is a membership to a Prostitute Club, not a Parachute Club."
"Oh man, am I in trouble," I said. "I signed up for five jumps a week!"
The
line went dead.
