I hate being called ‘dear’
I may be as old as dirt. But that doesn’t make it okay for you to patronise me, or not bother to ascertain my name.
So many times I have ambled up to a plexiglass screen to be faced by a face with a lot of orange make-up and nothing going on behind the eyes, who will then refer to me as ‘dear’ throughout.
I read the other day about an old lady in Utah, who suddenly got out a gun and blew off a bank clerk’s face.
I rather suspect she had been called ‘dear’ once too often
You can now have a collection of Granny’s inimitable insights of your very own in Granny Knows Best.