'Love Island for more mature matchmaking starts on Monday and I can’t wait'
Hard to get a grip on showing your affections, Babes
I’m a hugger. I wrap my arms around people and squeeze until they’ve no breath left and their eyes pop.
But I know not to hug strangers. Even when I wanted to cuddle my hip surgeon, I asked him first and was delighted he agreed because that wonderful man changed my life. So I understand why Spanish football federation boss Luis Rubiales grabbing Jenni Hermoso’s face and planting his lips on her mouth clouded their World Cup victory.
He was wrong. But these days it’s sometimes hard to know when something’s affectionate or inappropriate. I habitually call people Babes, which comes from a friendly place. But one day in Sainsbury’s I said: “Thanks, Babes” to a man on the till and really annoyed him. He said: “I’m nobody’s babe”. It wasn’t long after I’d lost Colin and although I didn’t cry, I felt really upset.
The Duchess of Cambridge calls Prince William Babes, so I’m in good company. I’m careful not to cross any lines but I’m never sure what’s safe to say and what’s not. One thing’s certain: I won’t go on a hunger strike like Rubiales’ mum. I’d have to say to our Robert or Jonathan: “I love the bones of you both. I’d do anything for you. Just don’t ask me to go on hunger strike because I’ll see a packet of Maltesers and the strike’ll be over in two minutes.”
I’d be Keane to protect my Roy
I can’t talk about an Arsenal fan allegedly headbutting pundit Roy Keane because it’s under police investigation. But if a commentator needs protection from fans, that’s sad. No commentator ever angered me during our Robert’s football career because they were always fair.
Roy Keane (PA)My husband Colin was more direct than anyone about his game and Rob respected that. Whenever he came off the pitch he’d say: “How’d I do, Dad?” Sometimes Colin would say: “Well, put it this way, if I could’ve put on a pair of shorts I’d have played better myself.” So our Robert wasn’t brought up being told the sun shone from his behind.
I’d also be sad if Roy was hurt because I just love him. He’s a mouthy, direct speaker like me and takes no prisoners. I adored him when he was younger and even more so now because he’s so rugged, charismatic and funny. He’s got everything. If I’d seen any kind of scuffle I’d have taken Micah Richards’ role and stepped in to protect my Roy.
Wild excitement over trip to zoo
Postponing our trip to the zoo has ramped up the anticipation. Imagine a car full of toddlers on a nursery trip squealing with excitement: me and my friends are worse. Sue’s even had her nails painted orange with black stripes because she’s beside herself about seeing the tigers. We’ll be hysterical on the day and will squeak, squawk and howl louder than any menagerie.
Our standards are going West
Again, I can’t go into much detail because this is a family newspaper. But Kim Cardigan’s ex-husband Kanye West has been pictured on a tourist boat getting far too frisky with his new wife. Standards have sunk way too low now. In my day, a snog in public would win you loud tutting or a thick ear. Even as schoolkids we were embarrassed tucking our skirts into our knickers to paddle in the sea. Has no one any shame now?
Kanye West (GC Images)
Simon Cowell (Phil Harris)I wish Mirror podcast had come sooner
The Mirror’s new podcast, Men in Mind, focuses on men’s mental health and is something I wish my dad’s generation had heard. Back then, men chatted in pubs and perhaps their problems would spill out, but more likely they’d be buried under a few pints and jokes with their mates.
Dad couldn’t talk about his time as a prisoner of war. He cried at every Christmas dinner and mum’s kicks under the table and frown told me not to pry. It wasn’t until I married Colin when Dad told him, of course one night in the pub, that on Christmas Eve during the Second World War he was one of 12 PoWs who escaped – and one of only two who weren’t shot dead. If Simon Cowell can tell the podcast how therapy saved him, listening to it will save many of our sons, brothers and friends from decades of untold pain.
Lochs like it is Nessie
Nessie could teach that Mr and Mrs West a thing or two. She showed merely a streak of her skin in what’s been hailed the best sighting of the Loch Ness Monster in decades. And, once again, we’re mystified and infatuated with her. I desperately want her fairytale to be true.
New age of dating shows
Love Island for more mature matchmaking starts on Monday and I can’t wait. I’ll be glued to ITV’s My Mum, Your Dad but there should be spin-off called My Nan, Your Gramps for us really oldies. It’s the sweetest thing when two people fall in love in old people’s homes so why don’t we help it happen? OAP dates could involve gentle dances to old records, trips to shows and dominoes.
We’d chat about our surgeries and how much we adore our grandkids. Manners would be impeccable, shoes polished and outfits pristinely ironed. There’d be no Kanye West-type public displays of affection or Love Island thong bikinis. I’m grateful to have had decades with the love of my life so I’d never volunteer to go on the show. Although, how old is Roy Keane?
Crunch time
A survey said Brits are falling out of love with crisps because companies have cut the quality and quantity in packets to reduce costs. I will never not love crisps. Two slices of white bread spread with salad cream plus a crisp filling equals heaven. And I have a tip: Hula Pufts. They’re as delicious as Hula Hoops, but softer so you don’t hurt your gums when you eat three bags in one sitting.
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