Men age badly. We all know that. We think we can do things at age 50 that we remembered doing at age 25, at how the rigors of youth have been unduly replaced by apathy of the aged.

And women are quick to point out that flaw in our nature.

With that in mind, this e-mail found its way to me recently which again goes to show how much time people have on their hands if this is how the Internet is being used.

Anyway, I can’t tell whether it was written by a man or a woman but I offer this timetable of male by an unnamed author:

You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house — mowing the lawn, putting a new fence in, painting the living room, or whatever.

You are hot and sweaty. Covered in dirt and/or paint. You have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit, shorts with the hole in butt, old T-shirt with a stain from who knows what and an old pair of tennis shoes.

Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you realize you need to run to the store to get something to help complete the job. Depending on your age you might do the following:

In your 20s: Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know — you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. You went to school with the pretty girl running the register.

In your 30s: Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with.

In your 40s: Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the hole in the butt of your shorts. Put on a different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brut cologne is almost empty so you don’t want to waste any of it on a trip to the store. Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The spicy young thing running the register is your daughter’s age and you feel weird thinking she is spicy.

In your 50s: Stop what you are doing. Put a hat on, wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don’t want to get dirt in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from your buddy’s bait shop and it says, “I Got Worms.”

In your 60s: Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose the dog mess off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50’s.You hope you have underwear on so nothing shows through the hole in your pants. The girl running the register may be cute but you don’t have your glasses on so you are not sure.

In your 70s: Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to the store until they have your prescriptions ready, too. Don’t even notice the dog mess on your shoes. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind

her of her grandfather.

In your 80s: Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember that you needed to go to the store. Go to store and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for. Belch out loud and you think someone called out your name. The old lady that greeted you at the front door went to school with you. Try to remember your way home.

PAUL McFARLANE is the Editor of The Tidewater News. While he didn’t write what you just read, he did laugh at it when it came across his computer. His e-mail is paul.mcfarlane@tidewaternews.com