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So, I went into the local supermarket to buy a pint of milk and some breakfast cereal, and I came out with a white convertible sports car.ÌýÌý

Darn those little cards on the wall selling customers’ cast-offs. Usually the handwritten cards are offering sofas and kittens and trampolines – but on the day in question, there it was –calling out my name…with a seductive whisper… For sale - white sports convertible…the dream machine…beckoning me with its curled finger…you know you want to!!

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You’ve guessed - I bought it.

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The fact that neither my wife nor myself could get in out, or out of it, with much dignity is neither here nor there.Ìý

The fact that a friend’s son mentioned that he wondered if the hairdresser had called, when he saw the car parked outside her house…is of no concern to anyone.Ìý

And the ribbing from friends and congregation alike – who found the mid-life crisis purchase a hilarious indication of serious character flaws - matters not a jot…

The hood down…the wind blowing…Marvin Gaye hearing it through the grapevine…what did I care? All that long hot summer, I was living the dream!Ìý

If only I had been in a position to buy one of those puppies when I was in my twenties…what fun I would have had…

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Now, in riper years, it might just look silly – but who cares!

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I may not wear purple, when I grow old…and an old bloke in a white convertible might make a few people smile…but I’m glad I came away from the shop that day with more than just a litre of blue top and a packet of porridge.

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Vroom vroom! Poop poop!

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Lord, thank you that there is no age restriction on having fun. Give me the grace to let myself have fun today. ÌýAmen.