I am awfully well for the shape I'm in!

In honor of my birthday on May 1, I thought I'd share this poem. It has been floating around in my head all week long. Finally, I "googled" for it and found the poem. Enough said.

I'm Fine, Thank YOU
There is nothing the matter with me.

I'm as healthy as I can be.

I have arthritis in both my knees And when I talk,

I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak, and my blood is thin

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Arch supports I have for my feet

My memory is failing, my head's in a spin

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The moral is this, as my tale I unfold,

That for you and me who are growing old,

It's better to say "I'm fine" with a grin

Than to let folks know the shape we are in.

How do I know that my youth is all spent?

Well, my "get up and go" just got up and went.

But I really don't mind when I think with a grin

Of all the grand places my "get up" has been.
Old age is golden, I've heard it said;

But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed

With my ears in the drawer my teeth in a cup,

My eyes on the table until I wake up.

Ere sleep overtakes me, I say to myself,

"Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?"

When I was young my slippers were red,

I could kick my heels over my head

When I was older my slippers were blue,

But I still could dance the whole night through.

Now I am old, my slippers are black,

I walk to the store and puff my way back.

I get up each morning and dust off my wits

And pick up the paper and read the obits.

If my name is still missing,

I know I'm not dead

So I fix me some breakfast and go back to bed.

Author Unknown