Ah! Life is a wheeze when you’re my age:
There’s nothing to worry about,
No workaday problems, no mortgage,
No husband to hassle and shout.
Drab chores like the shopping and cleaning
Are managed by much younger hands
And travelling isn’t demeaning:
My scooter obeys my commands.
The grandchildren treat me with kindness,
I love them, but then if they stay
Too long I feign deafness or blindness,
Or doze till they all go away.
And nobody balks at my fads now
Which means I can choose to have fun
With several randy old lads now,
Though I will be soon 81!