Yesterday my daughter emailed me again asking why I didn't do something useful with my time.
 
"Like, sitting around the pool, drinking wine isn't a good thing? I asked. Talking about my "doing something useful" seems to be her favorite topic of conversation.

She is "only thinking of me," she said, and suggested I go down to the Senior Centre and hang out with the fellas. So I did, and when I got home, decided to play a prank on her.

I sent her an email saying that I had joined the Senior Parachute Club. 

She replied, "Are you nuts? You're 86-years-old and now you're going to start jumping out of airplanes?"

I told her that I even had a Membership Card and e-mailed a copy to her.

Immediately, she telephoned me and yelled, "Good grief, Dad, where are your glasses?! This is a membership to a Prostitute Club, not a Parachute Club."

"Oh man, am I in trouble," I said, "I've signed up for five jumps a week!"
 
The line went dead.