WE’RE only in our early fifties and generally in robust health, but ageing is already proving to be a challenging process.

I find myself feeling the chill and having to wear a woolly hat because of the loss of natural insulation up top. Why is nature giving me more hair on by back, but less on my head?

In contrast, my wife has reached the time in her life where she’s constantly overheating because of the ‘M-word’.

Now, before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusion, it’s important to make it clear that she has given me permission to write about her condition which has resulted in regular hot flushes over the past 18 months.

They can strike any time, any place and it’s not very pleasant. To be fair, it’s not much fun for her either.

Many women of a certain age will understand what she’s going through, as will many men who are expected to show the right level of sympathy and, if it’s a particularly bad flush, be ready with newspaper or magazine to do a bit of fanning.

It all reached the point where I’ve had to spend summer nights in the spare room because it was like sharing a bed with a large glow-worm. During the winter months, we’ve to make do with just a light sheet – so you can see how hard it’s been for me to cope. And, of course, she doesn’t like me to get too close because my own body heat makes things worse. At least, that’s what she keeps telling me.

But hard though it may be, it never ceases to amaze me how positives can often be found in the midst of adversity… Our youngest son Max, 18, was home from university and was getting ready for a night out. He’d forgotten to turn on the hot water so he’d made do with a cold shower.

He came downstairs complaining loudly. “Mum, I’m freezing,” he said, his teeth chattering.

Without hesitation, my wife – in the middle of another hot flush – jumped up and replied: “Well, you’re in luck because I’m absolutely boiling – come here.”

The pair of them embraced – the freezing son being warmed by a human hot water bottle, the clammy mum being cooled by a teenage block of ice. It was the perfect family union.

The hug must have lasted a good five minutes until the hot flush had passed. There were no apparent side-effects. Who needs hormone replacement therapy?

THE THINGS THEY SAY

MY cousin Susan has been in touch from Brighton about her eight-year-old grandson Aaron. He’s proudly declared to the family that he’s been “infested” into the cubs. Good for him!

THANK you to Kathryn Fox who was out shopping when her three-year-old son Ewan when he asked if he could have a toy gun.

“Perhaps you should ask Santa,” replied Kathryn.

“I have asked Santa,” declared Ewan, “and he said Yes!”

AND Paul Smith contacted me via Twitter to tell me about six-year-old Mishka who said: “I’m very good at remembering. I’m very good at forgetting as well. Actually, I’m probably better at forgetting – I think it’s one of my best powers.”