Hello Kitty!

I have now, officially, gone off Hello Kitty. Not that I was ever a big fan, but I didn't really mind if Lori wanted to have a Hello Kitty pencil case.

Today, I drew the line. I refused to buy her a Hello Kitty magazine.  I took this action because it had horoscopes.

The boys' magazines aimed at the same age are not filled with horoscopes and make-up. I don't know what they are filled with, but I'm not going to let that get in the way of this tirade. I know it isn't unscientific mumbo-jumbo clap-trap and superficial nonsense about how amaaaazing they'll look in lip gloss.

I am officially old.

I know this, not only because of the above outrage at role models for the youth of today, but because of an incident that happened in Stockbridge yesterday.

I was walking past an ironmonger, or if you prefer, a hardware store. It looked like a proper old-fashioned one, with fork handles and plugs. I thought, inwardly, "you don't see many shops like that any more". Exactly as I was thinking this to myself an elderly lady, who had been standing outside the shop with her equally elderly husband, turned to him and said:

"There aren't many shops like this around, any more, are there dear?"

Oh no. I have the same thought process as an eighty-year old.

I am evidently now in the twilight of my years, and I expect I will shortly need to vote Conservative because I am scared of criminals.*

But, seriously: horoscopes? Appalling.

*Not really.