I went phone shopping today.
Now, I use my phone in a very basic manner: I make calls; send text messages and take photos. That's it. I don't do apps; imps; wizards or whatever . . . I'm hopelessly technophobic.
However, as it's soon to be my birthday, I had persuaded he-who-believes-he-should-be-obeyed that I needed a phone with a better camera . . . he was delighted with the suggestion; it saved him having to do any lateral thinking or, even worse, having to guess my bra size if I asked for lingerie . . .
So, bright and early, the girls and I hit the High Street.
Have you seen the price of phones ?! Whatever a megapixel may be, it cannot possibly be worth nearly a whole calf . . . Or four lambs !
Suitably horrified, I frogmarched the girls away from all the bright, shiny things and into a dingy little second hand electrical shop. . .
There it was; an old model, but with twelve of those megapixel thingys . . . A bargain at seventy pounds.
"You know Mummy," mused my eldest, "that phone's pretty much as good as those posh ones. It's just tattier, that's all."
Pretty much like meself, methinks !