I don’t know what to say. I was in two minds - should I mention this awful pandemic or not?

Normally I find comfort in my ignorance, but no matter where you turn you can’t avoid what’s going on. We’re all involved and it would be foolish to think that this crisis won’t affect ‘me.’ Good hygiene and consideration for others have never been so important. So, everyone, keep scrubbing and keep your distance! I’m lucky, I’ve always been a top scrubber…

I’ve been so worried about my Grandad. At 36 I consider myself blessed that I have any grandparents left, so when the news hit I immediately went into a blind panic. Despite his age, Father Lofthouse still enjoys getting out and about, seeing his mates and having a flutter on the gee-gees (he is the go-to guy when you need to back a winner).

I knew he’d be getting down about having to sit in the house all day so we all chipped in and bought him a smartphone. We thought it might help if he could video-chat with relatives. Normally I’m trying to avoid video-chatting with family, so I did momentarily worry that over-exposure to my moon-shaped head on such a small screen might do more harm than good.

No ‘old vs. technology’ jokes here. Grandad, despite insisting on holding the phone at arm’s length and squinting (he has 20:20 vision), was giving all the teens in Vodafone a run for their money.

‘There.’ He stated, matter-of-factly. ‘I’ve put the Bluetooth on so I can link it to that thing.’

He pointed at a printer.

‘Why do you have a printer?’ I creased my face.

‘I don’t have a quill and parchment stashed in the back!’ He snapped.

‘I’m just asking!’

‘Yeah, well I even know who Diana is.’

‘Who?’

‘You make me real and I’m only a girl in this world.’

‘No. Just stop.’

‘And Sisqo!’

‘I’ll never speak to you again.’

Remembering that I actually needed to print something off I handed him my phone to connect it to the printer. Grandad doesn’t have an email because ‘Mr Lofthouse’ was already taken and he refuses to use anything that, I quote, ‘Lacks formality and respect.’

I bade him farewell soon after and headed to Tesco. It was bittersweet, I was glad he would be safer in the house but it’s always sad not having a grandparent hug - G-parent hugs always seem to top every other hug.

I was buying my cat food when I felt my mobile vibrate in my bag:

‘Oh no, he’ll have figured out I used all the ink.’ I was petrified.

As I rummaged around I thought I could hear something that was oddly familiar. Now, my hearing is shocking (I blame Sony coupled with tinnitus), but the beat seemed familiar. Other shoppers were now in hysterics.

Oh no.

Once the phone was out in the open the all too familiar chorus of ‘Thong Song’ was blaring at full whack.

Cheers, Grandad.

Though I am impressed he set it as my ring-tone (not so impressed I was billed £3.99 - though I suppose that’s to cover ink usage).

To all the Grandparents - we love you.