Tweeters or Twirlies

A few days ago I overheard one of my daughters calling us 'the wrinklies'; I immediately looked in the mirror and realised that the description was a fair one.

I offered some protestation, however, because it is not an accurate name for Mrs M. She may be three weeks older that me but she looks youthful. I know that I definitely married up.

Trying to offer support I commented that she didn't look a day over forty. She was quick to point out that we are at the age when such compliments don't work, mainly because forty still has the ring of age about it.

I shouldn't be too upset with being called a wrinkly as, much to their amusement, we have been using the title for our parents for a number of years; they must be thicker skinned than us.

I told my dad about the latest stage we have reached, and commented that, if we have arrived the moment where our laughter lines have determined our description, what should his generation now be called.

He informed me that his generation already had a new name. Apparently the local bus drivers in his locality have started carling them 'twirlies'.

I asked him why; suggesting that perhaps it referred to their dancing abilities and deftness of foot when getting on and off buses. But no!

He went on to describe how the name only applies to a five-minute period between twenty-five past nine and nine-thirty in the morning.

Evidently, as the drivers arrive at each bus stop during this period they are greeted to the sight of groups of pensioners all asking 'Are we too early to use our free bus passes?'

Hence the name Twirly. I guess it's a northern thing.

It does strike me as excellent that the elderly of Britain time their morning journey for maximum value.

Before the introduction of the free bus passes there was nothing to stop them setting off on their journeys as early as they desired.

I asked my dad why pensioners were so eager to travel during the early morning and he simple replied 'because we run out of sleep'.

'Added to this' he said 'is the fact that we need to get back for our tea'.

Apparently this is the age when you can no longer eat onions passed five o'clock without your whole sleep pattern being disturbed.

It struck me as ironic that whilst my wife and I are all too eager (tweagre) to use our social networking sites before nine-thirty our parents prefer to get out of the house and meet people for real.
Where we are tweeters whilst they are twirlies!

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