I AM used to being an embarrassment to my children. If I had a job description, that would be one of my key roles.
But I wasn’t aware our TV sets (we have three) were capable of performing this particular task so well.
To my untrained eye, they just sit there looking perfectly inoffensive. All flat screen and neither too large nor too small, they work perfectly well and the picture quality seems fine to me.
But, according to 17-year-old Roscoe and 14-year-old Albert, they are a ‘total embarrassment’. All their friends, apparently, have ‘smart TVs’ and most of them have much larger screens, displaying high definition images.
And although, from what I can gather, our Freeview service offers us about 80 more channels than we actually need or would ever want to watch, everyone else, it would seem, has far more choice than that.
“Our TVs are so old. They just don’t work properly. They don’t even pick up all the channels,” complained Albert.
“The quality of our life would be so much better if only we had a decent TV,” wailed Roscoe. Another one to add to the list of First World problems we heartlessly force him to endure on a daily basis.
It all came to a head last weekend, when we went to Warwick to visit their older brother William, who has just moved into a flat with his girlfriend Amy.
“Look - even William has a smart TV!” said Roscoe, pointing to the Samsung flat screen TV in the corner.
So we got a demonstration: “See, you can easily call up Netflix, BBC iPlayer and YouTube on screen.”
I pointed out that we already do this, thanks to the Chromecast device we bought in order to stream programmes from our phones and laptops directly to the TV.
But this involves the additional tiresome procedure of having to press a switch, followed by a few keys – another First World problem that the boys could do without.
They successfully sold the idea to their dad, who likes his gadgets. So now he is on the hunt for a new TV.
I suspect, though, no matter how smart our new TV is, we will still be sitting down most evenings complaining that there is nothing decent on to watch…
 
SINCE their dad was already in Warwick with the car for work, I travelled down by train with three of the boys on Friday night to join him. So I bought a Family Railcard, which offers one third off adult and 60pc off children’s fares. When we arrived in Birmingham, I had to buy four one-way tickets to Coventry, so showed the man at the desk our Family Railcard: “It’s cheaper to buy them without the discount card,” he said. “And a return ticket will cost you less than a single.” I didn’t understand it either.
 
PATRICK asked me to take him on a shopping trip before he returned to Manchester to begin his third year at university: “I need to refresh my cutlery,” he said. I did point out that he could just wash the knives, forks and spoons I bought him last year, but it turned out he had lost most of them. His casserole dish, frying pan, mugs, plates and measuring jug also needed replacing. “Anything I still had wasn’t worth bringing home, it was so revolting by the end.” He announced he also needed new towels. “But what about the ones I bought you last year?” I asked. “They were so disgusting, I just threw them out,” he said. Funnily enough, washing up liquid and washing powder weren’t on his shopping list.
 
WILLIAM’S girlfriend, Amy, wondered why the eight-year-old boy she babysits for wanted to know if she was engaged: “No, what makes you think that?” she asked. “My mum told me when I asked her if I could have you,” said Archie. Touched that he would want to marry her, she mentioned it to his mum: “Oh no, he asked if we could get you to babysit one night a while ago but I told him you were otherwise engaged.”