There’s big talk about concerning the ‘triple lock!!!’ on MY pension. Yes, I am a pensioner and thus get paid by the state, have incontinence issues, dribble down my shirt and walk round in circles talking about Rommel’s attack in Tunisia. Its what we do. And we do all that shit because we can afford to. Because the government don’t just pay us, but they give us a pay rise EVERY YEAR. Otherwise we’ll go on strike!!! The nation would positively grind to a halt if the above activities were to cease due to industrial action. And the pay rise is ‘triple locked’. Meaning that whichever is the greater of: average earnings; inflation or 2.5%, that’s what we get. And as average earnings have shot up, due to a massive increase in inflation; us old’uns are going to be quids in. And deservedly so. We’ve paid all our lives into a state pension, even though we didn’t want to. We gave our legs for this country. Probably metaphorically, but its what us oldies claim. We need more heating than you young bucks do. And certainly more alcohol. So its all well and good that our annual pay rise is much more than anyone else’s. As it should be. If they gave more money to young people they’d only go and waste it on sex and drugs and rock’n’roll. Possibly a bit on rent, buy a house, pay childcare, improve healthcare… but who wants that? When you can have half a nation of overpaid old folks getting pissed every day on your dollar. “WHEN DO WE WANT IT? NOWWWW!!!!”

The other thing about getting old is that you may at some point get to become a grandparent. To, probably, a grandchild. Or two even. And the whole point of being a grandparent is that you don’t say ‘no’. Only when Joey’s broken something, and by then its too late. But grandparents are providers of ‘treats’. Which mummy and daddy have decided to rename ‘junk’. Thinking that by renaming food high in sugar, salt, MSG, excessive colourings and flavourings as ‘treats’ makes them sound worthy, commendable and hence, overly desirable. Whereas by calling them ‘junk’, Lila and Joey will instantly throw their lollypops in the bin (well, Joey probably on the sofa), cast aside their salt’n’vinegar Hoola Hoops, run away from their ice creams, and head straight for the nearest Holland & Barrett. Yeah. Right.

The only thing with ‘treats’ is that they should be secret. And Lila and Joey don’t do ‘secrets’ very well. Saying ‘don’t tell mum’ (dads are always more… flexible) about ‘treats’ or ‘illicit’ viewing on YouTube (teenagers being stupid type videos which are so stupid that they guarantee the viewer will end up an incurable fan of Love Island and The Only Way is Essex by the time they’re 12) that they always tell their mum at the earliest opportunity. Phah! Kids.

Happy old Friday

A xxxx