Second childhood is kind of complicated.

I’m 70. It’ll be a while before I’m THAT old.

 

Second childhood implies that I left the first one behind .

 

I will always be 12-14 ish...and laughing at old farts falling down manholes. I have no fear of manholes...except for how I am extracted. Having more girth than the hole, I would be like a cork in a bottle. Hopefully the rescue team wouldn't consider a giant corkscrew!

 

One of my life's mottos.

 

One thing you need to remember with a second Childhood: Don't take Candy from Strangers!

 

You're entering your second, I never really left my first, it's all good.

 

I'm so old, my bedtime is three hours after I fall asleep on the couch!

 

I was constantly dropping my Candy.
But, they kept giving me Butterfingers.

 

When I was a kid I would say, that's pretty Cool!

When I got older I would say, I'm too old for that!

Now I am back to saying, that's pretty cool!

 

When asked how old I am my answer is: old enough. My birthday: it hasn’t changed.

 

I think I lifted this from here. Getting old is all in the mind. Transplant has limited my horizons but I still play like a kid. I wear jeans, Vans, plaid shirts. Play my music too loud. Build hot Rod VWs and get speeding tickets.

 

Let me stand up and salute you. Wait a minute..................now you can hear me, my knees quit popping. Can you hear me? Sorry, why did I stand up?

 

says it all

 

Why do I drop my keys so often when I'm trying to get in the front door?

 

why do i lose my keys and have to bash my own door down...its either mead or ale or going bonkers with age...i look in the mirror and see my dad...dont look like the man i call me dad....better ask my mum.....except she doesnt know what day it is...i cant tell her ...i did know in the morning...the kind chap walking his dog told me it was christmas day...but i forgot later....only remember now because im wearing the shirt he wrote it on the sleeve cuff
i do remember wilbur wright walking on the moon after flying there in the spirit of saint louis...and getting the bus back though

 

oh dear...ive lost another tooth....
oh its ok...swallowed it...ill pop it back in later....
now wheres the fangled computtery thing...i want some on my toast....is it Wodensdaag?...we have cabbage soup on a Wodensdaag...and lutefisk...im sure we got off the longship yesterday?...or was that 500AD??..i forget these days..may have been 793AD..
i remember Olaf the Twelveinch saying it would be all over by Yolfest..or he would eat Freyjas knickers.or was that Lloyd George?...then i found i was in Sainsburies looking for a tin of beans
...thank the gods for dementia or i would remember ive gone senile...we clambered up the shore and onto a hard black serpents road...then poor Olaf was slain by a mighty demon known as the 263 bus to Redcar via Lingdale and Saltburn
there wasnt much left of poor Olaf to go to Valhalla....so we sought a tavern to mourn his sad passing...against the bar of this tavern did lean a mighty weapon of wood iron and wire....
i learned from a wise man that this was no ordinary weapon...he held it aloft to the cries of TELECASTER..a weapon i did seek to master someday
wheres my toast...and warm milk...i think the tooth has afast itself in my gullet
upon my admiring this fearsome mighty weapon named TELECASTER a screaming flying demon did appear...the name of this foul creature of the air was Police Helicopter...looking for a senile old fool dressed as a warrior..with sword and shield and an axe in his belt.so here i am relating this now...they let me off the wall and sit the right way up once a week....and feed this strange foodstuff they call medication...oh well back on the wall...but afore i go heed this tale as a warning to time travellers and Immortals
As for Freyjas knickers...poor Olaf doesnt know what hes missing
(need a lute or lyre and a drum in background as i recant this tale)

a toe tapping bawdy ditty from the old mead hall....ahh memories...those were the days

 

you did it again didnt you....priceless...keep it up my friend great way to quietly go bonkers