When I went to lunch today, I noticed this lady about 75-80 years old sitting on a bench near the food court and she was sobbing her eyes out. I stopped and asked her what was wrong.
She said: “I have a 22-year-old husband at home. He makes love to me every morning and then gets up and makes me pancakes, sausage, fresh fruit and freshly ground, brewed coffee.”
I said: “Well, then why are you crying?”
She said: “He makes me homemade soup for lunch and my favorite brownies and then makes love to me half the afternoon.”
I said: “Well, so why are you crying?”
She said: “For dinner he makes me a gourmet meal with wine and my favorite desert and then makes love to me until 2:00am.”
I said: “Well, why in the world would you be crying?”
She said: “BECAUSE I CAN’T REMEMBER WHERE I LIVE!”