On checking in for our holiday in Crete, despite a terrifyingly early start and wandering around in a zombified stupor, Mike and I decided to hit the Duty Free shops separately and reconvene later.
I was so glazed-over with tiredness I was just floating around trying to focus when I heard a man’s voice saying: ‘Scuse me, you’ve dropped your passport.’
‘I vaguely wondered who the absolute twit could be who had done that. Then I realised it was actually me. Nothing like a sudden jolt of adrenaline to wake you up.
After getting over the shock of nearly being passport-less, I bought two books at WH Smith.
Gliding back into the main hall I suddenly had a vague sense of unease. I was pretty sure I’d arrived with a white pull-along cabin bag. Yikes, it was still in WH Smith!
With all the composure of a scalded cat I shot back inside with a speed that would have made Usain Bolt seriously worried for his career.
There it sat, in all its shiny white glory next to the checkout. I was so embarrassed about my stupidity that I didn’t tell Mike… but he’ll know all about it now!
On arrival in Crete, Mike’s blue Samsonite was one of the first off the conveyor so I assumed mine would follow shortly. After all, we’d checked in together.
When there was only a motley crew of stragglers left still waiting for bags and mine still hadn’t arrived, I was getting a tad worried. (A friend lost hers in LAX and had to buy new stuff on her insurance. But a Cretan holiday resort isn’t exactly Beverley Hills).
Luckily it finally arrived, as I'd pictured being condemned to a week wearing gift shop flip flops, I Love Crete T-shirts and maybe a pair of Mike’s 34-inch waist shorts which suit a 6ft 2in chap, but not a size 10 female… and that’s if they'd stay up in the first place.
And with no underwear either, imagine the shock the other holidaymakers would get at breakfast if I inadvertently flashed them while helping myself to croissants!
GRUFF CALLER ON THE DOG AND BONE
Amusing to see it was Take Your Dog to Work day the other week.
I wasn’t in the office so couldn’t take Milly, however she has accompanied me on numerous occasions before.
Usually she has a quick mooch around and stands by each of my colleagues’ chairs in turn to investigate, before settling down for the day.
The first time I took her in she was beyond excited and rushed about at top speed everywhere. She then quickly fell fast asleep on my lap and was no trouble at all until I was right in the middle of a lengthy phone call when she decided it was a really good time to emit a very, very loud woof!
Try explaining that one to the person at the other end.
WHAT KIND OF GENERATION ARE WE BREEDING?
Opinions please – how young is too young for a child to use an iPad?
We are on holiday in Crete and on the beach we saw a young couple watching their little boy toddle around in his swim nappy and taking it in turns to carry him into the sea.
He was too small to talk properly and had that wobbly, unsteady gait that only tiny children have.
Imagine our surprise when we saw him at dinner later, perched in his high chair scrolling through his mum's iPad like a pro while his parents and both sets of grandparents studiously ignored him, chatting among themselves and occasionally stopping to feed him something.
How is that teaching a child to interact and socialise? What a strange generation we are breeding.