Seriously? I was in the co-op at lunchtime and there they were. Kinder Eggs. Eighty five whole pence.
They were never really good value chocolate wise, but at 40p or so you could sort of justify it for the toy. But this is just crazy. And then I started looking around and really thinking about things and how much they cost…
When did cans of Coke and Mars bars stop being about 30p??
I don’t like it.
It makes me feel old.
Like when I watch Friends and realise that even though they look and seem so grown-up, and live in New York and have proper jobs and wear nice clothes, they are all younger than me.
Or like when I first met Belle’s teacher and thought he was the work experience boy, and thought to myself ‘surely men that young can’t impart any useful knowledge to our children?’
Or like when I buy shoes and Bee says ‘you do realise don’t you that those are the brand middle-aged mums buy because they think they’re cool?’ and I don’t care because I think they’re comfy and good value and look cool.
You see what happened there???
Even though I know I’m doing it – trying to be cool and young and trendy – and even though I know I’m failing, I don’t care.
The not caring bit is actually quite liberating. The feeling old bit not so much.
The internet has the same effect on me. I’m not old enough to be scared of it, or to get in a flap about sending an email, or to feel the need to call the BT helpline every time my internet doesn’t work, but I am in awe of it.
Because I can remember when it wasn’t there.
*gasps from anyone under 20*
I grew up in a time where if you were meeting someone you just had to call beforehand and arrange a time, and then be there when you said you would. No texting when you change your mind. We lived in a house without a computer, let alone broadband or mobiles, or apps or social media. Social media?? It’s not even a thing is it? When I tell people I work in marketing and social media it feels silly, like a made up job.
I’m ranting now. I can hear it in my fingers as I type. My hands look angry and impatient, and, when I look more closely, slightly crepey.
I encourage my hands to take deep breaths. (In my head obviously).
I try to think positively -yes I may be older, but that makes me wiser right? I think back to the previous sentence and feel doubtful. I curse the Kinder Eggs.
What makes you feel your age? Should I continue to dress like a child, and fight it all the way, or is it time to just accept it, take out a subscription to Good Housekeeping magazine, and grow old gracefully?