A friend who has been away travelling for six months returned home last week. Her aged father had not wanted her to go away at all so on her return she put aside personal needs and hoofed it back to her ancestral home. To her utter astonishment the old man did not enquire as to her well being or about her adventures in the Far East, Antipodes and Americas but proceeded to rattle on about his own (dull) existence. As she was recounting the misery of the visit it occured to me that his behaviour was far from unusual. Indeed I’d argue it was typical of the over 70s. Let’s face it how many times have you visited an older relative to spend two hours sat in an overheated room, sipping sweet tea listening to them narrate, in miniscule detail, the story of the operation that Mrs Jones from next door but two’s daughter (who you have never met) had on her gammy knee? Or something similar? Not only are some older people cantankerous old buggers they are self-absorbed and parochial in the extreme. Worse of all, they can be as boring as hell.
I have made my husband promise to organise my immediate euthanasia if I display any symptoms of becoming a self-obsessed old girl. Anyway, less about the old folk let’s get back to more interesting subjects, me…
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