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“Come here. I just got this. Let’s see what your blood pressure is.”

You go through phases in life. In your 20s you buy your first grill. By your 30s many will upgrade to a smoker. And in your 40s, some take it to the next level with a boat, motorcycle or convertible — otherwise known as the mid-life crisis purchase.

And apparently in your 50s — you are in the market for blood pressure monitors.

“Look,” he continued, “it’s synced to this app on my phone, and it monitors all your vital signs.”

“My vital signs? Why do I need my vital signs monitored? I don’t even have any gray hairs yet!”

A week prior, and about two minutes after I walked in the door, my husband asked me to close my eyes and stand on one leg.

“You should be able to do it for 20 seconds if you are 18 to 49 and at least 15 seconds if you are 50 to 59. I can do it for 20 seconds; let’s see what you can do,” he said, before I could even put my purse down.

“I’m not playing your silly old people tests,” I said. “We did the at home hearing test last week, and I smoked you!”

“You didn’t smoke me, you cheated. No way did you hear that beep.”

Because we are both highly competitive, I rolled up my sleeve so he could take my blood pressure.

I come from a long line of women with low blood pressure. As in so low, I should win an award.

“What was it?”

“It’s normal,” he said but I could hear the bitterness in his tone.

“Normal — it’s not normal. It’s usually exceptional. What was the exact number?”

“99 over 77.”

“Ha! I win — again! You should have stuck to smoking meat!”

And to think, this is just the beginning of our growing old together.