TWO things I’ve learned since I became a grandparent: you are never too old to learn; and you are never right.

My granddaughters, Poppy, eight, and Penny, four, have given my wife Pat and I a new lease of life at every level, and their opinions and look at life is a daily thrill, especially with Penny, who we have for a few hours every day till her dad finishes work.

But, what a few hours they are. We apply the scattergun approach to entertaining her, courtesy of a ginormous stock of toys in our spare bedroom that have built up over the years.

It always amazes me how much pleasure she still gets from toys she has had since she was a toddler, and a particular favourite is Peppa Pig, but the play nature has ramped up a bit now, as they are more than likely to have a full supporting role with games with Toy Story characters.

Seeing Buzz Lightyear verbally slugging it out with Madame Gazelle, from Peppa Pig, using her own ‘scripts’, is worthy of a TV series on its own.

Penny was always bright – we might be a bit biased here – obviously, but since she started at Ringland Nursery in January 2012, she has turned into a chatting machine, with an eloquence beyond her years.

Her elder sister has more than likely played a big part in this, I’m sure.

Poppy is well on her way to representing her country in a sport I wouldn’t attempt, ever. My confidence in her inspired a present from me for Christmas of a red Tshirt with the Union Jack above the words ‘BRITISH HORSE RIDING TEAM OLYMPIC GAMES 2024’.

I wouldn’t bet against her; she always has been a super-determined child in everything she has dabbled in, be it ballet dancing, gymnastics and the one with true stickability, horse riding.

She lives and breathes it, with twice-weekly lessons at a riding school in Llanwern, and this is what she wants as a career.

Last summer I helped Poppy to ride her two-wheeled bike, it was all right just cruising, albeit a bit wobbly, up and down the little close where she lives, to then having me jogging by her side, then, well, something akin to a Basil Fawltyish bit of striding trying to keep up with her. But I did it, and was proud of myself.

It can be a bit tiring, and I’ve had to tailor my reply to people who ask me how I like retirement. I used to say, ‘It’s all right, but I can’t do a thing ’till after 10am, as I don’t stop hugging myself ’till then’.

That reply will have to be shelved when school holidays come around. And, I just can’t wait.