grumpyf1

Now that royal babies and general elections are out of the way, it’s safe to come out from behind the sofa. Hopefully. As a child, I vividly remember sneaking the TV on and watching Doctor Who whilst my mum had a chat with a neighbour (Yes, it was in black and white, you cheeky wotsit). I was so terrified by the Daleks that I didn’t want to go near the TV to turn it off, and tried to drown out their frightening voices by hiding my face in a cushion. I have pretty much the same experience with those most transient of TV journalists, the royal, and political, correspondents. Happily, someone conveniently decided to invent the TV remote control since my short trouser days, so the cushion isn’t troubled by me screaming into it any more. Unless you count ‘Talent’ shows and Big Brother. With the recent General Election, they got more and more screen time, with their swingometers, bar charts and on-screen wizardry, until it started to get dangerous to pop out for milk, in case you ...