…you compare various features of irons before making your purchase.
Anyone else getting old?
…You curse the manufacturers of La-Z-Boys for replacing their elegant friction-clamp seat-back mounting system with four cheapass screws that only last a dozen years.
…you click on this thread because you are old.
…you have hair growing out of… 
You and your teeth don’t sleep together. 
[hijack]
When I was a teenager, I hated ironing worse than anything. Worse than washing dishes even. My mother would often catch me leaving the house and make me come back in and iron the shirt I had on. (Fortunately, blue jeans usually don’t need ironing.)
Several years ago, I decided I wanted to wear a certain t-shirt. I found it in the bottom of a drawer where it had been wadded up in the back. So without even thinking about it, I hauled out the ironing board and ironed it. While I was doing it, a big grin came over my face and I thought “this is the girl who didn’t think her prom dress needed ironing and here I am ironing a t-shirt. Mom would be so proud!”
[/hijack]
What are you talking about, old? Get off my lawn!
At 32 I feel I qualify as old. I also got real excited about buying a drill last week.
You drop something and it rolls under the sofa and you think
“Meh, I can live without that.”
Loved the “Get off my Lawn” thing
I haven’t ironed anything since that time in Home-Ec class when I set the room on fire.
(That wasn’t nearly as bad as the time when I made the sewing machine explode.)
You’re old when you make old lady groans when you get up out of a chair…
You’re getting old when you have to listen to your kids complaining about how old they’re getting.
Also you get a little embarassed when you get impatient with the microwave or the laser printer. (Remember when the printer was a typewriter hooked up to the computer? type-type-type-type-type-type-type-type-type-type)
…when you have to respond three times.
My mother said to me two years ago that she didn’t think of herself as old until she sent me a birthday card that said “Happy 60th Birthday.” She couldn’t comprehend that she had a son who was 60. That made her…OLD!.
…when noting that samclem is 62 makes me feel all sprightly, dewey and chipper.
… you wake up and you’re happy to find that a pimple grew overnight.
… you have fond memories of getting carded at a bar.
… you find that many conversations with younger friends or relatives begin with, “Y’know, when I was your age…”
… your complaints about current tastes in music sound pretty much the same as your parents’ complaints about your tastes in music when you were a teen.
You escape for a few minutes to do some shopping…you wander around the baby department and start hearing “thud, thwack, let me do it again, smack, rustle” You turn the corner and two unsupervised kids decide the best place EVER to play baseball is in a store. You yell “STOP THAT!” and shockingly, they do. They plead innocence hear you say “Do you plan on paying for all the things you are breaking? JUST STOP IT!”
You then hang around until they find something else to destroy, all the while thinking to yourself, “I should tell their parents they were playing baseball in the toy department.” but having mental images of being bitch slapped by some mother who thinks her babies would NEVER do anything like that.
Nope, never been in THAT situation recently.
…you realize you are older than your grandmother was when* you* were born!
Shoot, I forgot to mention that I am 51, and my grandmother is 101!
You see the sticker in the Liquor store that says ‘You must have been born on or before this day in 1985. to purchace alcohol.’
You also realize your car is only four years away from being old enough to drink.
When a sibling has a grandchild graduating from high school. In a few years, I could have a sibling that’s a great-grandparent. Which would make me a … ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh…
… you have ties that have gone in and out of fashion twice.
And you realize that you were old enough to purchase alchohol then AND that your youngest child will be eligible to buy beer next year.