I have always told myself that getting old was part of life and that I was okay with it. I mean, it happens to everyone after all. I guess I just assumed that it would be an easier transition.

The truth is, when I hit the forty year mark, things started falling apart.

First, it was my knees. I figured they would go anyway because one of them has been injured for all of eternity. I guess the other one just got tired of picking up the slack. It now refuses to play nice.

Then there was my back. It decided at forty-two that it wanted to hurt… bad. So it did. I went to the Chiropractor and he treated the part of my back that didn’t hurt. So it still hurts. Once, I even went camping for my buddy Chris’s birthday and it hurt so bad that I slept while sitting on my knees.

These days, at forty-four and 1/2, any quick motion I make hurts some part of my body. It’s actually funny at this point. I can turn my head and do an imitation of a bowl of Rice Krispies. Snap, Crackle, and Pop.

Playing with my youngest daughter Emily is a fun activity. She wants me to chase her or pick her up or throw a ball or move in some way. I mean, move? So I have invented games that get around that activity.

There’s throw the ball at Daddy or Guess where Emily is hiding, or that soon to be favorite, The Hunt For Daddy’s iPhone. Each one of these is designed to increase Emily’s patience with her Dad.

I tried to make the switch with her to video games but the Gods of Bodily Terror found out and started killing my eyes. Now, even with my twenty-four inch iMac, I struggle to find the hidden objects in Emily’s favorite game, I-Spy.

I wish there was a way that I could turn frequent trips to the rest room into an educational learning experience but so far everything is just a little too gross.

Seriously, I guess I don’t mind getting older but I would have never guessed it would be this painful. Now I know why my Mom and Grandmother used to tell that I would regret all the things I used to do when I got older. They were right.

Oh, and one more thing. There is a certain pleasure knowing my younger friends will hit their forties soon. By then, the only thing I’ll be able to do is watch anyway. Might as well enjoy it, right?