What was the worst part about aging? Mo didn't even have to look in his mirror. In fact, he held it up and looked at the back of it with interest, refusing to look at his graying hair and wrinkles. He saw enough of that in the bathroom mirror every morning, and he didn't need to see it again so soon.

"My girlfriend is 70 years younger than me. I look like her grandad. It makes snogging her an awkward thing." So he didn't, frankly, and Cat seemed to be a good sport about it. For now. "And I think I might have a heart attack from all these stairs I have to climb. And my knees... don't get me started. When I was young, we didn't have classes all over the dagburn castle the way these smartalecky kids do now. No, we had sensible schedules set by professors who a decent set of brains located up in the ol' nogging. I dunno who made up these schedules, but they have no respect for my sore joints or my aching back. Not a lick of sense among the lot of them." What was he talking about again?

And don't even ask him about the rowdiness of kids these days. Their parents should be hexed for raising such monsters. Grumble grumble.