Beverly is 90 years old and has been playing golf every day since she retired 25 years ago.
One afternoon, she comes home looking downcast. “That’s it,” she tells her husband.
“I’m giving up golf. My eyesight is so poor that once I hit the ball, I can’t even see where it goes.”
Her husband, Gus, makes her a comforting cup of tea and suggests, “Why don’t you take me with you and give it one more try?”
“That won’t help,” sighs Beverly. “You’re a hundred and three! You can’t be of any assistance!”
“I may be a hundred and three,” Gus replies, “but my eyesight is perfect.”
The next day, Beverly decides to take Gus to the golf course. She tees up, takes a mighty swing, and squints down the fairway. Turning to her husband, she asks, “Did you see the ball?”
“Of course!” Gus replies confidently. “I have perfect eyesight.”
“Then where did it go?” Beverly inquires.
Gus thinks for a moment and says, “I don’t remember.”