Like most of us, my Monday mornings aren’t much to shout about. Fairly miserable with a dash of stress-head, I conduct the morning school run and go to do the weekly shop at Aldi. Its fairly mundane, I load my shopping onto the conveyor and then madly try to keep up as the assistant scans it all and hurls it back at me.

Occasionally I’m privy to random conversations between assistants.  Today however hailed a new Monday morning low as the assistant behind mine openly discussed the complexities of her prolapse.

I’ll be honest my assistant didn’t seem best pleased with the situation and I don’t blame her. Being trapped behind a till with Miss. Overshare going on behind you must violate some kind of human rights legislation surely!? 

And no amount of breakfast-free mornings will ever prepare me for discussions of incontinence, gall stones or vaginal prolapse. And I’ve (now) heard them all from various people, in various places, but always first thing in the bloody morning!

What has happened to British society and the era of ‘we don’t talk about that kind of thing’? Where our famous stiff upper lip remained tightly shut in the face of T.M.I.

Its gone that’s what. The moment a show like Naked Attraction actually got airtime it was all over. Pandora’s box was wrenched open and uncomfortable facts about Embarrassing Bodies and Love Island came tumbling out on an unsuspecting (but more than willing) nation.

It’s all far too late for us. All I can say to any aliens watching is ‘run! Save yourselves! And wear good ear plugs on Monday mornings’.