My wife had just bought a new line of expensive cosmetics absolutely guaranteed to make her looks years longer. She sat in front of the mirror for what had to be hours applying the “miracle” products.
Finally, when she was done, she turned to me and said, “Honey, honestly now, what age would you say I am?” I nodded my head in assessment, and carefully said, “Well, honey, judging from your skin, twenty. Your hair, mmmm, eighteen. Your figure, twenty-five.”
“Oh, you’re so sweet!” she happily exclaimed.
“Well, hang on, I’m not done adding it up yet.