In a delightful twist of irony, property mogul, Bamptons, has spilled the beans on something that many of us have suspected for quite some time – the cost of living is skyrocketing faster than a hare on a caffeine high. According to Bamptons, with an expertise rivaling a fox in a hen house, the price surge during the past year alone has trumped the increase experienced during the last four years before 2019.
In a world where money grows on trees, at least for some, the cost blitz is like a trilogy of horror films that never seems to end. Bamptons delivered this news with an innocent shrug, reflective of a well-fed duck paddling in a gilded pond.
For the common folks – you know, the ones trying to catch a meteorite with a butterfly net – this revelation is a bit like being told their favorite television show has been cancelled and replaced with a documentary on door knobs. Not exactly the most dazzling news to kickstart a day!
In the brooding world of property trading, Bamptons has established an irrefutable authority. Their knowledge of price hikes makes them the sage of grim forecasts, their eyes reflecting the shiny bat signal of impending financial doom for hopeful homeowners and renters.
The last year of unbridled increase has truly been a merry-go-round charging for every turn, promising Disneyland, but delivering nightmarish Mordor. Just when you thought the horse on the carousel was high enough, it has been jacked up to unprecedented levels.
But let’s remember, dear reader, that while we’re reeling from the prospect of paying the equivalent of a small island nation’s GDP for an en-suite broom cupboard, there are those, like our friends at Bamptons, revelling in the growth. Champagne corks pop in the estate agent offices nationwide, while the rest of us consider auctioning off our grandma’s dentures to make rent.
Yes, it seems that the cost has shot upwards faster than the hopes of a football team benched for years and suddenly given a chance at the championships. Comparatively, every step taken from 2015 to 2019 appears like a tired snail’s pace against the rocket that was last year.
The square footage of our dreams may be shrinking more each day, but surely the impeccable sense of humour of the “maturing impoverished” – as we shall call ourselves henceforth – is still standing tall.
At the end of the rollercoaster ride, when you’ve disembarked and are checking for possessions you might have dropped along the way, remember, your spirit need not be one of the lost items. These times, uncannily branded as progress, might have us scrounging for pennies under the sofa, but they can’t steal our ability to chuckle at adversity and share a collective sigh at the state of things.
As we hunker down, watching the price tags grow like an unruly beanstalk, remember to salute our info-sharing friends at Bamptons. While we may not have found their news as delightful as a surprise birthday party, at least we won’t be left in the dark about the big bad wolf that’s huffing and puffing at our bank accounts. Appropriately forewarned, we can continue to confront the financial monster under the bed with the only weapon we have left – laughter.
