Isn't it amazing how a casual comment can make you feel old?
As we were having dinner one evening my daughter - who's doing inventors and their inventions at school - asked me about old-fashioned telephones.
I confirmed to her that my parents did indeed have a black Bakelite telephone with a dial.
I then mentioned to my husband and daughter that I could never get through to competitions on Swap Shop because by the time I'd dialled 01 811 8055 - at least that's the number I think I can remember from 30 odd years ago! - somebody else had already got through with the correct answer.
'What's Swap Shop?' both of them asked me.
Now, fair enough the ten-year old has no memory of Noel Edmonds other than on Deal or No Deal.
But really, I did hope that hubby might be able to share the 70s memories. Apparently not.
No memories of Noel and his jumpers, Keith Chegwin trying to swap a chess set for a Chopper bike, Maggie Philbin doing whatever she did, Posh Paws the dinosaur sitting on the desk looking slightly menacing - nothing.
While we're on the topic, whatever happened to Saturday morning TV for kids - or hangover TV as it became known as we reached our late teens/early twenties?
Surely there's room in the schedules for a modern day Swap Shop, Saturday Superstore, Number 73, SM:TV or Tiswas?
Then again, maybe not... I'm not sure how today's 'health and safety' world would cope with the Phantom Flan Flinger!