"How was your golf game, dear?" asked Jack's
wife Tracy.
"Well, I was hitting pretty well, but my eyesight's
gotten so bad I couldn't see where the ball went."
"But you're seventy-five years old, Jack!" admonished
his wife, "Why don't you take my brother Scott along?"
"But he's eighty-five and doesn't even play golf anymore," protested
Jack.
"But he's got perfect eyesight. He could watch your
ball," Tracy pointed out.
The next day Jack teed off with Scott looking on. Jack
swung, and the ball disappeared down the middle of the
fairway. "Do you see it?" asked Jack.
"Yup," Scott answered.
"Well, where is it?" yelled Jack, peering off
into the distance.
"I forgot."
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