Overheard by Generation

Overheard in the kitchen:

Hay (to No.2 Son): "Well, so many of the younger generation are just so flakey and don't take responsibility for anything."

Chairman: "Complaining about 'the younger generation' again?" 

Hay: "Oh, by the way, Dad's hearing aid failed again. Actually, it didn't – he just didn't know how to operate it."

Chairman: "God, the older generation – they can't operate anything. Are there any other generations we could moan about?"

There it is – a textbook display of what I can only call intergenerational whack-a-mole. Whichever generation’s head pops up, the others take a swing. Boomers call Millennials entitled, Millennials say Boomers wrecked the planet, Gen Z accuses everyone of being cringe, and the Silent Generation… well, they're silently judging us all with a cup of tea and a biscuit.

But the truth is, moaning about other generations is the glue that binds us. It’s the national pastime that no one ever admits to enjoying, like eating cold leftovers straight from the fridge or shouting “well done!” at the toaster. Every older generation has moaned about the younger one not knowing hardship – then struggled to programme a thermostat without calling in NATO.

Meanwhile, the young retort that old people "don’t understand the modern world" – then forget that every oat milk flat white they sip while scrolling TikTok on a £1,000 phone was funded by someone who spent half their youth without central heating and thought an avocado was something you painted your kitchen with in the '70s.

The only uniting principle seems to be the unshakeable British belief that everyone else is getting it wrong – just in different ways.

So here’s my modest proposal: if we’re going to carry on this noble British tradition of generational sniping, let’s at least formalise it. A monthly National Intergenerational Grievance Exchange, perhaps. We can all get together in a draughty community hall – the youth get five minutes to whinge about Boomers, Boomers get five to blame everything on Millennials, and someone in the back records it all for posterity on Betamax.

Until then, I shall continue to play referee in the generational grudge match that is our kitchen – armed only with a raised eyebrow and a well-timed sigh.

Because if there’s one thing Britain still does better than the rest of the world, it’s tutting across the ages while the kettle boils.