I was walking along the corridor behind two youngish male members of staff this morning - they're probably in their late thirties.
"You know you're not young any more," said one gloomily, "when there's no mud on your bedroom floor because you've stopped playing football."
"I think I knew I was getting old," sighed the other, "the first time I walked past a traffic cone and had no desire to put it on my head."
Ah, youth... :)
ReplyDeleteOr indeed on the head of Wellington at the foot of North Bridge!!
ReplyDeleteCurious fellows!
ReplyDeleteha ha ha ha!! That's hilarious! and so male...
ReplyDelete...or in the manner of students everywhere, no desire to nick the aforementioned cone, to serve as a piece of post-modern interior design...
ReplyDeleteThis gave me a wonderful laugh.
ReplyDeleteIf that's the criteria, then I suppose I was BORN old...
ReplyDeletePoor lads! Bring out the violins, willya?
ReplyDeleteI have to laugh again. - everyone is so cynical!
ReplyDeleteNow I know I'm getting old when there's mud all over the bedroom floor because I've forgotten to bend and take off the gardening shoes!
ReplyDeleteWell, I'm still not old then because I cannot resist a traffic cone. I always put them on post boxes. They are actually very heavy when you put them on your head and tend to have spiders inside.
ReplyDeleteOh, that was funny. Made me think of Bertie Wooster and pinching policeman's helmets...Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteHahaha. Oh. Oh dear. I suppose this means I'm awfully old then. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the giggle. That was very cute.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the laugh! Glad I found your blog!
ReplyDeletePoor lads....it comes to us all! But do they still have their hair??
ReplyDeleteBoth of which sound like recommendations for aging...
ReplyDeleteHeh! I think I like getting older.
ReplyDeleteI do enjoy overhearing such snippets.