Once, I mocked people who said it. It was a cliché; it was caricature material. It was a sure sign that someone had slid into full-time grumpiness. But here I am, and the words “back in my day” seem to be spilling out of my mouth far more often than I would like and I realise that I have reached the point where I have drifted into curmudgeon territory. Worse still, I say it with absolute conviction and I really believe that some things really were better in my day.

Back in my day, petrol was R2 a litre. As a student, I dropped in R20 at a time. That will no longer even buy the right to glare menacingly at the pump. The sum that once fuelled my car now fuels my sense of despair. It's hardly enough to tip the attendant!

Television was more difficult than it is today. We had to wait an entire week to see the next episode of our series. Entire generations survived without 24-hour broadcasting and binge watching was polishing off an entire packet of Marie biscuits while watching MacGyver. Patience became something built into our nature. Meanwhile, the youth of today act as if civilization is collapsing when Netflix buffers for a few seconds.

And as for clothing… when did decency become optional? Young people’s outfits are seldom bigger than a serviette. I often wonder if designers are running out of fabric and how such a tiny item can come with such an enormous price tag. Tut, tut, the youth of today. I keep wanting to offer these kids a cardigan. These days, if a girl sneezes too hard she might create a wardrobe malfunction!

And then there’s my pillbox. The kind old people use. Where I keep my daily doses because I can never remember if I’ve taken them or not. I used to think pill boxes were the epitome of decrepitude. There’s nothing that reminds you of your age like a fistful of pills staring back at you every evening.

Back in my day, being tough wasn’t a lifestyle choice. It was just life. Research for schoolwork meant libraries. We had to haul ourselves there (obviously we did it barefoot, in the snow, and it was uphill both ways) and pour over encyclopaedias. We would read and summarise because writing out everything word for word was exhausting. It taught us to analyse information which made us retain it. These days? Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V, project done. It’s the skill of thinking that is the casualty.

Here's the thing though. These hardships were teachers. Waiting for TV shows taught us patience. Libraries taught us grit and focus. Instead of telling me I was the world’s greatest treasure, my mother told me that the world owed me nothing and I needed to work for everything I got. These days, that’s tantamount to abuse! But it’s the truth. The youth of today sees harsh realities as people infringing on their inalienable human rights!

This generation undoubtedly has it easier – no question. There’s endless access to information, entertainment and comfort. But that’s the problem. Ease rarely builds character. While young people believe they work hard, they have no idea what hard work actually looks like and they see even minimal effort as showing grit. So, while I’ve become a walking (when my back allows it) caricature of an old person, the skills I’ve gained were forged in the frictions of life. If today’s youth are spared those frictions, I fear they’ll also miss the resilience that came with it.

Still, I must remind myself not to become too insufferable. I must remember to laugh at my own grousing.

Just don’t step on my lawn.