Old suit

This stately Irish gentleman could do with a bit of washing, I think.

To my ear, until fairly recently, the aphorism “age is just a number” rang extremely untrue. Depending on the angle of approach, it sounded like either compassion or delusion, but I think I get it now.

I get it because, until fairly recently, I felt bound up in whatever number was mine, as if it were my very skin, whereas now the number feels more like a loose-fitting suit.

It’s on me, yes, and it still defines me outwardly, but it’s no longer connected to me. It can be removed.

Or could be if I were allowed to remove it.

Which I’m not.

Which I guess is why God created deodorant.