KATHY LETTE

‘Two of my divorced friends have fallen for each other. It’s driving the rest of us bonkers’

Falling in love is like going to the doctor and being told that you need to put on weight. Being in love means floating so high above cloud nine, it’s a wonder air-traffic controllers don’t ask you to relay your position – which is probably half-naked in the restaurant cloakroom because you just can’t keep your hands off each other.

Frank Sinatra croons that ‘love is lovelier the second time around’ – and many of my middle-aged pals are indeed falling in love again, which is great – but please don’t think the rest of us want to see it. ‘Puppy love’ is only cute when you are actually a puppy. There’s nothing more irksome than grown-ups acting like teenagers, with wrinkles instead of pimples.

Two of my divorced friends, people who swore they’d never fall in love again, have suddenly fallen for each other… and it is driving the rest of us bonkers. Seeing two middle-aged people so united in mutual adoration has made their long-term friends experience something we have never felt so acutely before – and that is nausea to the point of projectile vomiting.

Can you blame us? They’re suddenly using really insipid pet names in public like ‘pumpkin’ and ‘snooky’, and asking each other for ‘smoochie-woochies’ in totally irritating baby voices. They are slipping hands in each other’s back pockets, dropping inside jokes in front of us, and swapping seats at dinner parties so they can sit together – then feeding each other. They’re suddenly ‘we-ing’ everything: ‘We just love Wordle’, ‘We’re so keen on quinoa’…

Yep, middle-aged lovers really should have a minimum isolation period of say, six months, so as not to irritate the tooth enamel off everyone else.

When my loved-up friends came for Sunday lunch recently, and promptly started playing tonsil hockey at the dining table, as hostess, I wasn’t sure what to say, ‘Um, can I get you something? A glass of wine? A room? A psychiatrist, maybe?’

It’s wonderful to be No.1 on a speed dial; to have someone to laugh at your jokes and provide the harmony line on I Got You Babe. But, while delighted you’ve gone warp factor 10 to Planet Passion – ‘Hormonal Houston, we have lift off!’ – can you spare me every X-rated detail? Do I need to know that your bed headboard requires an airbag? Or that you’re now an MI5 agent’s dream – with fingerprints all over you?

And don’t immediately move in together. I think it’s best to at least have things in your fridge that have been around longer than your relationship – because if you fall out of love, whose side do we take?

Still, there’s only one thing worse than being in love – being out of it. Truth is, the rest of us are all just a bit jealous. So enjoy your late-blooming love affair. Just don’t rub our noses in your joy. Except on Valentine’s Day. Then you can be as ‘smoochie-woochie’ as you like, as long as you save a hug for me.

✢ Kathy Lette is an investigative satirist and author of 20 books; @kathylette and kathylette.com

‘Puppy love is only cute when you are actually a puppy’