When I’m sixty-four

I had an entire week of training at work recently. Usually it’s a welcome opportunity to get out of the office and do something a little different. This time however they wanted me to do work. Actual work! I mean really – haven’t they met me?

It was a programme to become a certified IT trainer (a concept I’d have been struggling not to laugh at if I wasn’t too busy struggling with learning how to use basic applications). It turned out to be a week of never ending assignments to prove my credentials. The whole thing culminated in an observed training session on an IT topic chosen by the instructor.

Now I find the whole IT world dull to say the very least so the week was hardly one peppered with laughter and amusement. I kept myself awake and alert by perfecting my doodling and sharpening my imagination until Day 3 when the instructor announced that she had chosen the topic on which I was to demonstrate my teaching abilities. She had also come up with an appropriate pretend target group of students. I sat nervously hoping it would be a remotely interest group so I could spice things up and make the whole charade more fun – perhaps a group of inmates from a high security prison? a bunch of luscious one-armed lesbians with tourette’s? – hey I could even make do with an Alcoholics Anonymous group - anything that would remotely raise a smirk would suffice thank you.

You will be teaching an old age pensioners club she dryly announced as my eager face fell with discontent. My mind drifted out the door on a wave of disappointment but was instantly snapped back when I heard the topic I would have to present- you will be teaching them how to insert objects! she explained.

Insert what now? I chirped in disbelief. Objects! she repeated, puzzled at my delighted reaction.

I’m teaching OAPs how to insert objects? I gushed with laughter How fabulous! - whoever said IT was boring?