Moving day

I told my son he’d better get his ass in gear and become rich because at 58 years old, I ain’t helping him move again. It was 96 degrees today, and I spent most of it sitting in an unshaded car, waiting for him and his friend to load it up. Oh, and I lost my keys. Magically, someone found them and turned them in and I was happy again. But my knees hurt really, really bad. (Okay, I helped a little.)

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