You're only as old as you feel

ANYONE WHO knows me will know how easily distracted I can get.
Today, for the third time in as many weeks, I mislaid my debit card. Spend, spend, spend ... I can't get enough of it. Whether I'm off out for petrol or pasta, my plastic is by far my most flexible friend.

But when it decides to stray, I'm so lost. It is so unforgiving to be without this little rectangular piece of kit. In its favour, I can easily forego my lip gloss and even, in extreme conditions, my top lip waxing strips ... but the plastic? No, no, no.

Like I said, three times in the past month has my little fella been left behind because I allow myself to get distracted. While my new top was being bagged up at the tillpoint today, my eyes were averted to a little old lady who was a double of Granny from the Looney Tunes' Tweety Pie and Sylvester cartoons.

There she was, hidden under a black fluffy fake fur hat, winter coat and those little tan coloured suede ankle boots with a zip up the front. She was busy dancing in and out of the racks to the thud of cranked up RnB sounds. I couldn't even get near the gear I had my eye on for the little geriatric dancing queen was hellbent on sashaying her way around the store. At one point, I had to resist the urge to get on down with grandma and join right in.

So, there you have it. Another distraction under my belt and another card left behind to fend for itself. My husband now knows what he will be buying me for Christmas ... a body piercing with an 18in chain, securely attached to which will be a brand new Switch card!