JACK wearily trudged into the house and laid down his bag of golf clubs. "How was your game, darling?" asked his wife, Betty.
"Ach, I was hitting the ball well enough," sighed Jack. "But the thing is, my eyesight's got so bad I couldn't see where the ball went."
"Well, you're 75 years old, Jack," said Betty. "You can't expect everything to be like it was. Why don't you take my brother Tommy along?" "But he's 85 and he doesn't play golf any more," protested Jack.
"No, but he's got perfect eyesight," Betty pointed out. "He can watch the ball for you."
So the next day, Jack teed off with Tommy looking on.
Jack swung and the ball disappeared down the middle of the fairway. "Do you see it?" asked Jack. "Yep," Tommy answered.
"Well, where is it?" yelled Jack, peering off into the distance.
"I've forgotten," said Tommy.
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