There is a moment in every woman’s life when, for the first time, she says something that officially makes her an old person.

The sort of person who, when you were young, would cause you to roll your eyes while they twittered on about “the war”, or how much you’d grown.

If I’m honest, there have been hints that this moment was coming.  Like making “Oooooof” noises when I clamber from a chair, or when I turn off the radio to concentrate on parking the car.

And then it happened.  The moment I crossed the rubicon.

I was in a shop, humming along to the background music.  It was a catchy tune that has a bit that everyone sings out loud, so when it got to that bit I couldn’t help but burst into song.  It was “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” – the bit that goes: “A-wimba-way, a-wimba-way, a-wimba-way, a-wimba-way….”  Or at least that’s how I sing it.

Shop Assistant heard me and looked over.  She was young and pretty and had a wide mouth that broke easily into a smile.  “Don’t you love this song?” she chirped.  “In fact the whole sound track to the Lion King is brilliant.  We play it here all the time!”

In that moment, her attempt to find common ground opened a gulf several generations wide and before I could stop myself I snapped: “That’s not from the Lion King!” Shop Assistant looked confused.  “That’s a pop song from 1982 by a group called Tight Fit!”

It occurred to me only after I had blurted this out that Shop Assistant had probably not been born in 1982, much less learning the two step to eighties one hit wonders.  She had no idea what I was talking about.  “Oh you must remember!” I blundered on, a note of desperation creeping in: “They had big hair and high cut leopard print leotards and over the knee boots!  They were on Top of the Pops all the time!”  More blank.  OH MY GOD.  SHOP ASSISTANT HASN’T HEARD OF TOP OF THE POPS EITHER.
   
In much the same way that a generation has now grown up thinking that Victoria Beckham first found fame as a fashion designer, this girl knew eighties pop only as a reworked sound track to a Disney Film.  When she pointed this out I simply made matter worse by shaking my head and snorting in a wholly patronising manner: “Oh no no no. This is a very old song.”
   
Why?  Why did I do that?  It’s hardly to my benefit to be associated with a very old song.  But we ancients can’t bear it when the young think they invented everything, and we take great joy in pointing out that something they love has been around for donkey’s years.  It is our petty revenge.  Our last chance to say: “I told you so”.

But the young hold the trump card, for there it was.  Ever so slight, ever so subtle, but there nonetheless.  She gave me an indulgent smile and glanced over at an amused colleague.

And then she rolled her eyes.