RESPECT YOUR ELDERS

WOW: Groove. Dean's feeling his age. Other people aren't helping.

Disclaimer: I don't own him...

xxxxx

Sam glanced across to Dean, sitting suspiciously quiet in the Impala's driving seat.

"Y'ok dude?" he asked.

"Yeah, groovy," Dean replied morosely.

Sam's silence prompted Dean to continue.

"It's just that whenever we visit Jody and the girls, I feel like such a freakin' antique," he grumbled. "I'm almost forty Sam, I found a grey hair last week."

Sam was struggling to hide his amusement.

"It sucks."

"What brought this on?" Sam asked, hiding his twitching smile behind his hand.

Dean sighed.

"Alex," he stated; "she offered me a whisky."

Sam shrugged; "so?"

"She asked if I wanted it in hot milk," Dean groaned.

xxxxx

end