Arthur is 75 years old. He’s played golf every day since his retirement 15 years ago.
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One day he arrives home looking downcast. “That’s it,” he tells his wife. “I’m giving up golf. My eyesight has become so bad that once I hit the ball I couldn’t see where it went.”
His wife sympathises and makes him a cup of tea.
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As they sit down she says, “Why don’t you take my brother with you and give it one more try.”
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“That’s no good,” sighs Arthur, “your brother is 85. He can’t help.”
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“He may be 85,” says the wife, “but his eyesight is perfect.”
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So the next day Arthur heads off to the golf course with his brother-in-law.
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He tees up, takes a mighty swing and squints down the fairway. He turns to the brother-in-law and says, “Did you see the ball?”
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“Of course I did!” Answers the brother-in-law. “I have perfect eyesight.”
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“Where did it go?” Arthur asks.
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“I don’t remember.”