Pushing Granny Out the Bed

'I need to make an effort to do my Wii Fit Test everyday,' said Andy last night as we were snuggled in bed watching Jamie Oliver cook various bits of pigs in various manners, although according to his American dining partners, with not enough salt.
'I fear,' he continued, 'that I shall otherwise have problems keeping up with you in the fitness stakes.'

This is in response to my swimming 'n' running sessions this week.

'Yes,' I said. 'Or people will point and say, 'Look, he can't even keep up with a Granny.'

At which point Andy pushed me out of bed.

'Now what sort of behaviour is that to show towards a Granny?' I demanded once I'd finished shrieking and laughing and climbed back 'neath the duvet.
'You're not a Granny yet,' said Andy.
'And that makes me fair game for pushing out of bed, does it?' I said.
'Yes,' said Andy.

To be honest I'm not surprised. He has been known to engage me in pillow fights despite the fact I wear glasses and EVERYONE knows you shouldn't hit people who wear glasses, especially girls.
'But I wear glasses, too,' said Andy, because he knows that once engaged in a pillow fight, I'm going to whallop him back.
'I've been wearing mine for longer than you,' I said. 'And mine are for short-sight and yours are for long sight.'
'What's that got to do with anything?' said Andy, and tried to push me out of bed again.

But I clung on, oh yes I did. Thanks to my super-duper swimming sessions I now have biceps like bowling bowls and the ability to grip onto anything with the tenacity of a barnacle during a Spring Tide.

'It's got everything to do with the fairness of pillow fights,' I said. 'I was wearing glasses since nearly before you were born.'
'I was nearly six when you started wearing glasses, specky four-eyes,' said Andy.
'Yeah, well glasses hadn't even been invented up t'North when you were a lad,' I said. 'In fact, I think the science of spectacles crossed the North South divide at the same time as Park and Ride buses, some time in 1993.'

Jamie Oliver was now sitting guard over a large piece of pork that was to cook overnight in a brassiere, I mean brazier.
'Should he be sitting that close to a blazing brazier whilst he's inside a nylon sleeping bag?' I said.
'Probably not,' said Andy, momentarily distracted from his Granny-attack by the possibility of seeing Jamie Oliver disappear in a puff of smoke with his leg of pork.

And then Hugh F-W appeared on telly in 'The Great Food Fight' and did a very entertaining impression of the Smash Potato space creatures. Do you remember them? As a would-be progressive child of the Seventies I was very keen to try 'Smash' but Mum was most insistent on peeling and cooking proper potatoes in a proper manner and not reconstituting them from a dubious dehydrated powder form. And now I am older and wiser, I guess she was correct in her insistence. Odd though, because I remember HER mother stockpiling 'Smash' in preparation, I liked to think, for the impending nuclear war that always scared the beejeezus out of me when I was 10 years old.

There are many things I wanted as a child that I didn't get. The game of Operation, for one, and to stop in a Little Chef for lunch en route to our annual holiday destinations. But since becoming adult I have experienced both these childish desires and can safely say neither of them lived up to my expectations. Operation is a dead easy game (even Mrs Slocombe gets bored playing Operation and normally she's very keen on anything with the potential to give her an electric shock), and my visit to the Little Chef (which followed a hot air ballooning trip) made me feel nauseous for the rest of the day. In fact, I may even have thrown up.

I wondered about the things Baby Bug Grandchild will remember from their childhood? I wondered if my Mum ever got pushed out of bed when she became a Granny? I wondered if Jamie Oliver had to fill out a risk assessment form before getting into that nylon sleeping bag next to the blazing brazier? I wondered, in the absence of nuclear war, if my Grandma ever did eat all that Smash?

Luckily, before I wondered too much, I fell asleep.