“Hells bells, thingamajigs and bloody whatsits” is what I heard on the overseas phone call before the familiar voice of my mother cut in. “Hello. Caught you in at last! Can you hear your dad? He’s trying to programme the new flat screen television he insisted on buying but it isn’t as easy as the man in the shop said.”

“What on earth is it doing now?” my dad asks his friend Jeff who just ‘happened’ to wander in to give a hand.

“Try pushing that button” suggests Jeff. “Or maybe click that thing. What does it say in the instruction manual?”

“They’ve been at it for hours now and still can’t get it to work properly” mother whispers in the vain hope of not being overheard.

“Half an hour” butts in dad, his voice carrying clearly across the room, bouncing off satellites, through phone lines and into my ear. “Half an hour and it’s only supposed to take five bloody minutes! Stop it Jeff. That thingamajig is supposed to be there but I haven’t got a clue where that dam whatsits supposed to go. Give me my other reading glasses and I’ll have another look at the instructions. Not those instructions dammit…they are in Japanese or Korean or something and not those German ones either”.

“They’ve managed to get the picture to come on” mother tells me “but they can’t tune it into BBC yet. Your dad insisted on getting it because he was fed up with the rubbish on the old television and as this one has over 200 channels. He figured there’d be something worth watching but he still wants the BBC. This one does all sorts of things and the instruction manual is as thick as a dictionary which is why they are having problems. The remote looks like it came out of a spaceship and I haven’t got a clue which way up it goes let alone what button to push for what. I’ve told your dad he better phone the shop and ask for someone to come and give a hand but he won’t. He says they’ll manage somehow but you know that him and Jeff are just like Laurel and Hardy so they’ll probably blow up the whole kit and caboodle before they are through.”

“It isn’t supposed to do that!” curses dad in frustrated annoyance. “If three year old kids can use computers and digital cameras then I’m damn certain 80 year old men can set up these idiot boxes without having to go through all of this stramash.”

“I’m so used to the pair of them carrying on that I ignore them now,” says mother. “You should have heard them trying to programme the washer dryer when it came six months back. They had it washing then drying, then spinning itself silly before they were through with it and I was the one who eventually figured out which button to press first. It’s far easier to use than my old twin tub now that I’ve got used to it but every time your dad reaches over the kitchen counter for his blood pressure medicine in the morning the machine sets off spinning! I keep telling him he’s pushing the buttons with his stomach but he won’t listen and insists that the shop man come and take a look at it while it’s still under guarantee.”

“Has he got used to his mobile phone yet?” I dare to enquire knowing full well that this is a touchy subject.

“Oh yes,” mother laughs. “When it plays a tune he just gives it to me to answer because he won’t admit that he can’t see which button to push to answer it. I push the button, give it back to him and then he happily chats away. We haven’t worked out how to save telephone numbers in it yet but we’re getting there. One of your sisters did show us but she’ll need to show us again. Your dad gets aggravated when it keeps going beep though. It seems to beep a lot, usually when he’s driving so I have it and he tells me off for playing with it when I’m not. It’s just messages coming in that’s all so we don’t bother as we don’t know how to reply. One of your nephews, he’s just five now, is Josh, he knows how to do it but we don’t.”

“It shouldn’t be doing that!” I hear dad splutter. “And listen Jeff...have I gone deaf or has the sound gone off now? Look, you’ve gone and clicked something you shouldn’t have and who’s just come in the back door? Well…if it isn’t our Josh!”

“Having trouble setting up the flat screen, great-granddad?” chirps in a little voice. “Here. Move over. I’ll do it for you.”

“Talk to you next week,” says mother. “I’ve got to watch this!”