A 90-year-old man is sitting on a park bench, sobbing, when a young man walks by and asks him what’s wrong.
Through his tears the old man answers, “I’m married to a 25-year-old woman!”
“What’s wrong with that?” asks the young man.
Between his sobs and sniffles, he answers, “You don’t understand. Every morning before she goes to work, we make love. At lunchtime she comes home and we make love again, and then she makes my favorite meal. In the afternoon when she gets a break, she rushes home and gives me another quickie, the best an old man could want. Every evening she comes home and cooks a fantastic meal, and as I relax in front of the TV afterwards she gives me a massage. My feet, my back, massages me everywhere. Then, when we go to bed, we make sweet love and I get a fantastic sleep.” He breaks down, no longer able to speak.
The young man puts his arm around him.
“I don’t understand. It sounds like you have the perfect relationship. Why are you crying?”
The old man answers, again through his tears, “I forget where I live!”