So they say absence makes the heart grow fonder. What a bunch of fertiliser! I haven't missed any of you, not one bit!

I used to write a column called "Grumpy Old Man" a few years back (it wasn't my idea). My therapist said it would be good for me to “get things off my chest and express my true feelings”.

But all good things must come to an end; I stopped going to my therapist. The last time I was there, two other clients were in the waiting room with me, and I asked one of them “Why are you here?” He answers: “I’m Napoleon, so the doctor told me to come here.” I was curious and asked: “How do you know that you're Napoleon?” He responded: “God told me I was.” At this point, a patient on the other side of the room shouted, “No, I didn’t!” So I decided that was it. I must be cured now; even I knew that was bonkers.

So I put away my keyboard, picked up my iPad and started playing Candy Crush, good times.

However, recently the old “ball and chain” has been saying that I’ve become the same ill-tempered, grouchy, testy and pain in the butt that I was before, and if I didn’t do something about it, she would divorce me.

Now, at first, I thought this was a win-win situation; but it was explained to me by a lawyer friend of mine that the battle-axe gets half of everything I own.

So I decided to plug my keyboard back in and put the word to the screen. Well, that took an hour looking for the keyboard cable before my daughter told me, “they are wireless now, Pops.” See? These are the things that get my goat; if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!

Well, it didn’t take me long before the old blood pressure started to rise. Now, when I was younger and you went out in public, you got dressed up. I remember getting up Saturday morning — this was grocery shopping day — and my father had a suit and tie on, and my mother wore a dress, gloves and a hat. I was in shorts, a collared shirt and long socks, and I waited for inspection by my father to make sure I was fit to be seen in public. Sometimes I got the “What the hell do you call that on your feet? Get those shoes polished, boy!” It was evidently clear I had not passed muster. After inspection, we got in our Morris Minor and made our way to Piggly Wiggly Plaza in Shelly Bay, and now to this day, I make sure I’m presentable when going out in public.

So I was out last week doing my weekly shop with wifey. I was pushing the trolley and muttering under my breath because the ol’ lady wouldn’t allow me to buy any “Ding Dongs” — something about “That’s the last thing you need!” When I stopped and saw coming towards me a woman in her plaid pyjamas and slippers slowly browsing the shelves. She went past me, wifey obviously knew I was about to say something, as she hit me in the back of my head with a French baguette that she had just picked up. We turn the corner to the cereal department, hoping that maybe I could put a box of Count Chocula in the trolley without you-know-who catching me when right in the middle of the aisle are two more women both in pyjamas and ironically having a conversation about how lazy their husbands are — and then, bam!, I get the other half of the baguette. So I bite my tongue and keep moving; I tell you now, I'm not paying for that baguette.

When exactly did it become socially acceptable to wear nightwear outdoors? How did this all start?

Have these folks decided to skip the part about putting on clothes? They looked like they just rolled out of their bed and hopped into their cars.

Sure, you run out to grab the Gazette in front of your house while still wearing them, but that’s where I draw the line. Sweatpants seem too careless for me to wear when I plan to be outside unless I’m getting some exercise (like that’s going to happen). But pyjamas in public? What does this say about someone? Have they given up on life?

I can’t help but shake my head when I see these ladies strolling down the food aisles in their SpongeBob pyjamas. It’s just so bizarre. Pyjamas on a five-year-old, sure, that's fine, but on a 40-year-old woman. Come on!

I have one further comment, well, actually a question: what do they wear when they sleep?