Behold my powerful deeds

As I arrived at the physical therapist’s, a man my age was leaving. As I left, another man my age was arriving. The three of us are in one of life’s predictable passageways. For most of my adult life, I regarded age-related disability as a personal failing, and thought I could avoid it if I ate right and exercised. Now I see that the body wears out no matter what. Even so, I remain an exemplary man, an inspiration to all who know me. To wit:

I drink my liquor straight.

I use six times the coffee grounds of an ordinary mortal.

I eat habaneros with every meal (habaneros being 44 times hotter than jalapenos).

I pee into the wind, and the wind flees before my mighty torrent.

Regarding these things, I say to my wife: “Behold, wife, your man’s powerful deeds and confess that he walks the earth a man among men, the terror of babies and the savior of tyrants.

My wife says back to me: “Forsooth, husband, I do behold my man’s powerful deeds, and I do confess that his few surviving taste buds packed their little suitcases and moved far away; furthermore, his shoes smell like urine.”

So much for the intellectual equality of women.