I do wish the government would desist with their mantra ‘Don’t Kill Granny’ in order to scaremonger the masses into towing the random and often bizarre and nonsensical rules of their increasingly lunatic handling of this corona virus. For a start, it’s never been ‘Don’t Kill Grandpa’, has it? And given the statistics that men are more susceptible to the virus than women, perhaps it ought to be?
But no - they’ve gone for the weaker sex stereotype of elderly old lady, white of hair (okay, so that is me, but that’s the only concession I give to grannydom), stooped of back, wrists and ankles the size of Twiglets, spending their days shuffling ‘twixt armchair (where they vary their pastimes between falling asleep, knitting and trying to find something decent to watch on the telly that doesn’t have annoying background music which makes their hearing aid whistle) and the loo because no-one told them to start a rigorous pelvic floor exercise routine immediately upon giving birth. Or taking up that misguided trampolining hobby in their early forties. I’m not saying there AREN’T grannies who fit this government vision, but I bet they are in the minority. And I also bet they are more than capable of telling people to bugger off if they don’t want to be hugged, too. When, and if, I ever grow to fit the stereotype, I bloody well will.
We might just as well have been told not to drown a kitten, or leave a bunny out in the snow because that’s the kind of image the government wants to match its pathos-ridden rhetoric.
Anyway, what the government needs to remember is that there are probably more fit and healthy grannies out here than there are frail grannies. I became a granny when I was 44, for heavens’ sake. Hardly past my sell-by date. My eldest granddaughter is fast heading for her 11th birthday and matching my shoulder in height. She is turning into a funny, independent and delightful young lady. The youngest granddaughter called me on FaceTime on Monday to share her excitement that she’s lost her first tooth. ‘Did your Mum grab you in a headlock and yank it out?’ I joked. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And it didn’t hurt at all. And now I’m getting money from the Tooth Fairy!’ Such independent and entrepreneurial spirit! They bring huge joy to my life, my girls, and no one is going to stop them hugging me when they want to.
Like lots of other sensible women, us ‘grannies’ do a huge amount to keep ourselves fit and healthy because we want to see our grandchildren grow. We want to be a part of their lives for ever. Personally, I am planning to make a nuisance of myself for as long as possible. I want to hear the words, ‘Gran? Oh yes, she’s STILL here,’ followed by a massive bout of sighing and eye rolling, and hopefully some laughing of the best kind. ‘102 and still wrangling that donkey she rescued in 2021,’ they’ll say of me, because I shall be - wrangling it into a saddle to take my great-grandchildren for rides around the garden.
Since this virus madness began I have lost 35lbs in weight. Every day I eat way over my 5-a-day of fruit and veg - nearer to 10 I reckon. I have gardened like I’ve never gardened, I have even done a bit of running (although I can report I wasn’t impressed.) I can touch my toes with ease (without bending my knees!) and I can still carry a 30kg sack of cat litter in the same way I used to carry sacks of potatoes to customers’ cars when I had a job in a farm shop as a teenager. I’ve been working on my balance and core skills. My brain is clear and quick and active. The likelihood is that I’ve even had Covid and not realised since Andy has definitely had it.
Therefore, Health Secretary Hancock - please do not dump all grannies in the bath chair with a tartan blanket over our knees. Please keep your sweeping generalisations to yourself. Please trust us with a bit of common sense to make our own decisions based on our own personal circumstances. Stop using grannies as tear-jerking examples. I’m sure someone amongst your cabinet colleagues there is one who can come up with a better, less patronising way to advise safety measures.
I’d offer my services as a writer, but I’ve given up.
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KJ