IT'S official - the little bowling ball is officially an old git! The doddery geezer in question, Brammy to his closest friends, caught the bus to work today and found that it was standing room only. Huddled under his tartan cap and wrapped against the cold in his leather jacket he swayed along, head down, on the way to Newport railway station.
There then came a tap on the shoulder. Swivelling as quickly as his old knees and rheumatic hips would allow he came face to face with a woman who was herself edging the wrong side of 50. "Hello, dear, would you like to take my seat?" inquired the kindly old dear.
The rotund Gloucester-born, Powys Liberation Front member stood there in abject shock. Then he blurted out: "It's ok, I have to get off at the next stop!" The fact he had to get off the bus two miles from his destination was beside the point. Rather that than suffer any more acute embarrassment.
Tomorrow he will no doubt wake up to an OAP bus pass, a pension book and offers of over-50s holidays in Devon from Saga.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the age scale the Vin Man has been in trouble at school. He may not have reached five yet, but he already takes after his grandad and, dare I say it, the Fat Kid.
She rang me to say: "He was caught with another boy. They were sat in the corner cutting each other's hair!"
"What on EARTH possessed him to do that?" I asked.
She had no answer, but apparently the teacher had given him quite a scolding poor dab.
Fast forward a few hours and a memory comes back to me which suddenly throws a different light on the situation. There we were, getting ready for the Evans fancy dress show, and I am proudly displaying my giant green mohican wig.
"What's that, grandad? Can I have my hair done like that? I like that hair."
Luckily the green paint was out of reach at infants school yesterday.
Having enjoyed the new burger king chilli and cheese balls at a service station on Monday, albeit a bit expensive at 4 for 99p, I thought I would adapt cheese on toast with the addition of some green chillis. It led to a rather bad night, I'm afraid.
First off I managed to sting my eyes because I didn't wash my hands enough after chopping up the little green devils. Then, to add insult to injury, I decided to wear some eye-comforting patches I bought from Boots the other day. Aaaaagh! The pain was something special. Finally at 2am I woke up with my stomach in such pain I swear that little creature from Alien was going to pop out of it in just the way it did from John Hurt in the first film of the series. I may think twice about the chilli/cheese combination in future.