So, my 43rd birthday is coming along, and I think that whilst this is an excellent prime number, it also makes me feel old. Forty was fine, 41 wasn’t that bad, 42 was a hoot because my wife got me a hitch-hikers guild to the galaxy first edition, but 43 … 43 is just old-gittery.
Following on from my page about the rules I thought I’d pen a few rules about becoming an old git:
- I will only have brown suede shoes. They will be slip-ons.
- I will only buy my shoes from the supplement pages of newspapers.
- I will end up with mustard coloured cardigans
- People will get me battenburg coloured pringle jumpers, and I will thank them for it
- All my clothes will sport elbow patches, for no ironic reason
- I won’t have shorts, trousers, etc. I will only wear slacks
- There will be no such thing as an ’emergency ginning’. There will only be warm sweet milky tea
- I will buy shares in horlics
- I will do DIY for the pleasure not the necessity
- I will become obsessed with the health of my walnut
- I will lose all ability to use computers, thinking it is strictly the domain of ‘the kids’
- I will talk about hobbies I don’t have that I would like to do, but navel gazing prevents me. keeping bees springs to mind
- All testosterone vanishes.
- The man-cave will become a potting shed.
- I will till the soil, and all windowsills will sport pot-plants rather than random car parts
- I will not understand what BPM stands for
- Worse, I will enjoy radio 2