With all the new technology regarding fertility recently, a 65-year-old woman was able to give birth.
When she was discharged from the hospital and went home, her relatives came to visit.
“May we see the new baby?” one asked.
“Not yet,” said the mother. “I’ll make coffee and we can visit for a while first.”
Thirty minutes had passed, and another relative asked, “May we see the new baby now?”
“No, not yet,” said the mother.
After another few minutes had elapsed, they asked again, “May we see the baby now?”
“No, not yet,” replied the mother.
Growing very impatient, they asked, “Well, when can we see the baby?”
“WHEN HE CRIES!” she told them.
“Why do we have to wait until he CRIES?”
“BECAUSE I FORGOT WHERE I PUT HIM. O.K.?”
Three men were discussing aging at the nursing home.
“Sixty is the worst age to be,” said the 60-year-old. You always feel like you have to pee. And most of the time, you stand at the toilet and nothing comes out!”
“Ah, that’s nothin’,” said the 70-year-old. “When you’re seventy, you can’t even crap anymore. You take laxatives, eat bran, you sit on the toilet all day and nothin’ comes out!”
“Actually,” said the 80-year-old, “Eighty is the worst age of all.”
“Do you have trouble peeing too?” asked the 60-year-old.
“No, not really. I pee every morning at 6:00. I pee like a racehorse on a flat rock; no problem at all.”
“Do you have trouble crapping?”
“No, I crap every morning at 6:30.”
With great exasperation, the 60-year-old said, “Let me get this straight. You pee every morning at 6:00 and crap every morning at 6:30. So what’s so tough about being 80?”
“I don’t wake up until 7:00.”