Old Fuddy Duddy

“Age is just a number,” Clyde said to his wife.

“Technically speaking,” Jenny, responded, “it’s a word.”

“Oh aren’t you the comedian?” Clyde chuckled. “You should take your show on the road.”

“I think I’ll pass on that,” Jenny said. “You may not feel your age, Clyde, or even look your age, but you really might want to start acting your age, don’t you think?”

“Where’s the fun in that? I don’t want to be some cantankerous old fuddy duddy who just sits around all day and grumbles.”

“So you feel the need to go out and sow some wild oats, huh?” Jenny said.

“You bet I do,” Clyde answered. “You’re only as old as you feel and I feel great.”

“Okay then,” Jenny responded. “Go, enjoy, and try not to hurt yourself.”


A few hours later Jenny was visiting Clyde in the emergency room. “It’s broken just below the elbow,” he told Jenny. “The good news is that I won’t need surgery, but my right arm will be in a full arm cast for the next eight or so weeks.”

“How did this happen?” Jenny asked.

“It was going great,” Clyde said. “Everyone was cheering and having a great time. I was rockin’ up a storm and then wham, I got dizzy and collapsed, falling off the stage.”

“Oh Clyde, I’m so sorry, but I did warn you.”

“Yeah, Jenny, I think my kareoke days are behind me.”

Written for today’s one-word prompt, “age.”

8 thoughts on “Old Fuddy Duddy

  1. Marilyn Armstrong December 2, 2017 / 10:54 am

    At least Garry has stopped standing on the ledge over the dam to take pictures. I had my heart in my mouth the entire time. One slip and it would have been bye bye birdie.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Fandango December 2, 2017 / 10:55 am

      None of us is as young or as lumber anymore as we like to think we are.

      Liked by 1 person

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