Darrel wiped the final bit of wax from his car and stretched his back. He lost count how many times he’d done this over the years, but he didn’t think counting was important when doing a labor of love. The only problem with that was his back didn’t agree.
“I’m getting old.”
“No older than normal.”
He shot his wife a look as she pulled the laundry from the drying line. “Better watch it. You’re two years older than me.”
“So, I’ll trade you in for a newer model.”
She threw one of the wooden laundry pins at him.