Married to a 70 year old? WTF!

Really.

I know that I'm seventy, too. I've been married for forty years to the same woman--who I sometimes introduce as "my first wife." To her displeasure.

It feels weird that I'm seventy. It's strange knowing that I have become an old man. And it's equally to realize that I'm married to an old lady.

WTF!

People tell us that we're "young for our age," whatever that means. But young or not, we're starting to act more and more like the stereotypical old couple. "What? What? What did you just say?" To bed at 10:30, or so. Cognitively declining together.

And we're getting more serious. Too serious.

Not that we were ever frivolous, mind you. Or particularly playful. We're both native introverts. She extroverts when social conditions require it. I have trouble extroverting, unless it's part of my job. Then I can do it reliably. Apparently I can extrovert for money, but not for appearances.

When we're together we drop whatever social facade, or veneer we've layers on ourselves, and we settle into what's most comfortable. That's changing as we grow older, probably because we're trying to conserve energy. For introverts, being extroverted takes energy. And old people don't have lots to spare.

I'm a happy person inside, despite not smiling much. This is nothing new. I remember my uncle Abe telling me to smile when I was a kid: "It takes more muscles to smile than to frown," he said. I remember my smart-ass answer: "I'm not afraid of work." I remember a teacher's comment on the second grade report card that I found: "Michael is doing better. He smiled once today." Smiling does not come naturally to me, unless there's something specific to smile about.

Despite years of experience living with me, my old wife sees me not smiling and assumes that I'm unhappy. And she says that makes her feel bad. Part of the problem is my battle with gravity, which I am still losing. Old people tend to be "down in the mouth" because of gravity, no matter what they may feel inside. The mirror tells me that I'm not an exception.

Well, says I, it does not have to be that way. Being more playful might be more work than settling into seriousness, but it's work that I'm gong to try to do.

It may be harder for her. She's seven months older than me.

But who's counting?