Will you still need me when I’m 44?

Colin Hume.
Colin Hume.
Share this article

Jugding by the comments that followed my birthday earlier this week, I’m really starting to get old.

There were a few jokey asides when I turned 30 and, of course, you’re always going to get some wisecracks when you reach the big 4-0.

But, after that passed, I thought I was safe for another decade - oh how I was mistaken.

For some reason unknown to me 44 (which I still class as my early 40s) has signalled an avalance of jokes.

My mum’s card set the tone by saying I should get the day off work by phoning in an saying I had an ‘old’, to which she added: ‘‘I couldn’t resist it - after all you’re 44 now!’’.

Then my father-in-law texted to say ‘Happy birthday - you’ll soon be drawing your pension!’’

(If only, the way things are going it will be at least another 25 years before I can officially retire.)

Thankfully, my presents didn’t reflect my advancing years - a new pair of Adidas Sambas should see me through another few seasons of five-a-sides while I’m reliably informed that my Fat Face jersey is a well-known brand favoured by the young and trendy as opposed to a comment on my personal appearance.