It takes a heap 'o gruntin' in this house that we call home
Sometimes, when pa's not gruntin', I do it all alone
I grunt when I get out of bed and again when I sit down
I grunt when I am all dressed up-or in my old nightgown.

Is it 'cause I'm getting older and my bones don't work so well?
Or is it just my way to say ,"I really feel like hell?"
If I take my vitamins and drink my metamucil,
I'll forget about the gruntin' and try to be more useful'

Don't hafta act like I am old, just 'cause I'm eighty one.
Think I'll get a perm and get out and have some fun.
But what is fun-at eighty-one? I don't think I know-
Going out to dinner, or maybe to a show?
I really don't come home and say,"Gee I had a ball today."

I used to go dancing, or swimming, or walking,
Now, I am lucky if I am still talking
To family and friends who are cheerful and bright
Who don't care to drink and stay up half the night.

I'd like a good bridge game with friends now and then
If I could remember who bid-and when
And not anger my pardner by trumping her ace
Or letting her see I have egg on my face.

Traveling is fun, and there is so much to see
If I don't have to walk and I don't have to pee
Every hour or two, or sleep in strange beds
Or get stuck with nuts, who are out of their heads.

So, travel is out, now that I'm old.
I can't stand the heat, or even the cold
Or running through airports or catching a train
I just can't handle the stress and the strain.

So guess I'll have fun by staying at home
And watching t.v. or writing a poem
Or making a dress or a shirt for a kid
who says,"Thanks, grandma, I'm glad that you did.

But I can't forget Phil, who's as good as can be
To do all the things he does to help me.
He gets all the meals and vacuums the rug
And most every day, gives me a hug
If that's not fun-I'd like to know--
To have more fun, where could I go.?

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