Another true story.
Snapits' grandson and son came to visit him in the nursing home one day. They try to get over to see the old geezer once or twice a year.
As often when dealing with the elderly, the conversation began revolving around health problems such as controlling one's own bodily waste. Snapits' grandson, who is pushing 40, complained that he had been having trouble with constipation lately and never knew what time of day he could "do it" anymore.
Snapits' son, who is a couple of decades older, said, "That's nothing, boy! I have to get out of bed seven times a night just to take a pee!"
"That's terrible, dad! What about you, gramps?"
Snapits looked up from his Hoveround and croaked, "Every morning at 7AM, I piss like a racehorse and take a gigantic dump!"
Snapits' son and grandson looked at each other in confusion, then blurted out to the old gum, practically in unison, "What's so bad about that??"
Snapits replied, "I don't wake up until 7:30."
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