By Peter Grenville

Published at 17:09, Friday, 18 January 2013

IT’S often portrayed as an over-complicated, laborious, soul-destroying exercise, with endless form-filling and questions.

Peter Grenville

My very brief exposure to the world of adoption took about one-and-a-half hours, and just one question. It would have been even quicker, if the person asking hadn’t been so shy, and curious as to whether I bleed cappuccino if I’m cut. (Of course not – there’s cider in there too.)

At the weekend, my wife and I were asked by my brilliant newspaper-column-ideas-factory, nearly-nine-year-old, friend if we would be willing to be adopted as Aunty and Uncle (although there appears to some confusion as to who is which).

We were delighted to accept, and in my first role as Aunty Peter, I shall endeavour to attend a swimming pool party, although I did point out I can’t go in the pool; being this hairy, I’d likely absorb all the water and leave distressed youngsters flailing around in the empty shallow-end.

I’m unclear as to what other duties are involved at this stage – hugging certainly seems to be part of the agreement, along with being silly, although to be honest I’ve been doing that successfully for 45 years.

I think cake was mentioned, but I’m an expert on that topic, and I believe playing Top Trumps may also be part of the deal.

There are lots of sad, lonely, rudderless grown-ups out there, who lead mundane, depressing lives, drifting from day to empty day, without any purpose. Minimal exposure to joy, fun and daftness has left them isolated. Being serious, grown-up, mature and sensible takes its toll.

If you’re under ten, and you think you can handle it, adopt a grown-up. It’s surprisingly simple, and it makes them very, very, happy. Thanks, Rebecca. It’ll be an honour.

I WOULD like to add my condolences to the many already made to the family of Alice Pyne, who sadly passed away last weekend.

Caught up in the day-to-day trials and tribulations of modern life, it’s easy to sometimes believe that your troubles are more unbearable than those of others.

Alice was a shining example of how to put those difficulties to one side, and get the most out of every minute of life. Her dedication, to raising awareness of the need for more bone marrow donors, and the fantastic Alice’s Escapes charity, achieved much more in her short years than most of us manage in a lifetime.

Others have, and will, speak far more eloquently about Alice’s life than I can. Whilst we’re busy being irritable about the minutia of life, some, like Alice did, are making the most of every moment of theirs. We should all take note. RIP.

Published by http://www.nwemail.co.uk