There's been a lot in the news lately about the scientific community's
	research on aging. If they can identify the factors that make people age,
	scientists say it will make a big step toward longer lives for all of us.
	At the risk of putting a lot of scientists  out of work, there's really
	no big mystery.  Old age is caused by having kids. I don't have a lot of
	studies, charts, and analytical data to support that. All I do is offer
	myself as "Exhibit A".
	Before I became a father, I was a young man. My stomach was flat, my skin
	was smooth and my body parts did not creak.  But then my first kid came
	out of the delivery room. I became an old man on the drive home from the
	My back went first.
	Their mother got the stretch marks, but I got the slipped disc from
	loading 700 pounds of  port-a-potties into the trunk of the car every
	time we took a trip that lasted longer than half an hour
	After 8,000 miles of horsey-back rides across the kitchen floor, I had
	blisters on my palms, calluses on my knees and sway in my spine.  Not to
	mention a craving for oats.
	My body deteriorated rapidly after that. By the time I went to my 10 year
	high school reunion, former classmates were trying to guess whether or
	not I had been their home room teacher.
	But those weren't really age spots on my hands and forearms. They were
	Sani-Flush stains from reaching into toilets to rescue combs, Lincoln
	Logs, and used to walk of Fisher-Price people.  After a while I got used
	to walking around with one sleeve permanently rolled up, but I'm still
	trying to get over the effects of having to give mouth-to-mouth to a Baby
	What looks like middle-aged spread actually started in my late 20's
	That's when I began to polish off leftovers from my kid's plates because
	there wasn't enough to save but there was too much to throw away. By the
	time my fourth kid came along, I actually began to enjoy pancakes with
	catsup on them.
	The more kids I had, the older I got. All my life I had 20/20 vision. But
	by the time I had assisted  on the first few hundred book reports that
	didn't get started until the night before they were due because "nobody
	told me about it," I was making weekly visits to an optometrist.
	Midway through my 30's my nerves were steady and my blood pressure was
	normal. But that was before my oldest kid got her temporary drivers
	license.  I sat in the passengers seat of my new sports car and watched
	her shift from second gear to reverse without using the clutch at 45
	miles an hour in our driveway.
	Gray hair, wrinkles, and bags under my eyes? I've got them all. But that
	doesn't mean I'm ready to cash Social Security checks.  It means I have a
	kid who attends a college that increases its tuition fees daily, another
	who wears $125 basketball shoes that he outgrows hourly, and a third with
	raging hormones who's mood changes ever minute on the minute.
	My only consolation is that someday those kids will have children of
	their own.
	And then, they'll be older than I am.

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