He is described in the programme as ‘the postman of New Zealand theatre’, on the grounds that he always delivers the goods. To extend the image, one could say Roger Hall is also spot on when it comes to selecting the post to engage with and appeal to his middle class recipients, in this case probably those in their ‘golden years’.

A theatre full of happy laughter is a very pleasant, reassuring place to be and audiences for this latest work will not be of a mind to niggle about the grandparent experiences not included in Hall’s postbag. 

We are led cheerfully and musically through the grandparenting experiences of Kath (Lynda Milligan) and Maurice (Steven Ray) with frequent linking contributions from Jason Te Mete, the musical director and pianist. The songs are the result of close collaboration between the playwright and the composer, serving to highlight a mood or inject some extra sparkle. They provide glorious opportunities for all three cast members to strut their stuff for our delight. The trio provides top talent with assured control of their material.

From the ‘treading water’ time when the couple are awaiting the first grandchild, through babysitting nightmares and the roller coaster emotions of family doings, Daniel Pengelly’s direction has a firm hand on the pace and humour of the journey, although things take a while to settle for me, in spite of engaging direct address from all three on stage.

The wait is well worth it with both grandparents as strong presences slipping easily between escapades with imagined offspring and sung commentaries. It amounts to very good fun.  A significant amount of that arises from gender and generation digs – so familiar, but still so effective.

She keeps a scrapbook, assuming that her photographs and Hairy McClary will be of perennial interest. (There is a huge collage of family pics as a backdrop and more of Kath and Maurice on duty in the programme). He wants to watch the television screen but has to be shown how to switch from tele to DVD.

And so it goes on. Grandchildren who are bored and who don’t write thank you notes, the spectre of not being wanted at Christmas, little everyday observations we do not see as funny in our own lives but which play so entertainingly. 

There is an underlying sense of the poignancy and tenderness of grandparenting too. Perhaps overstating that, at least for me, is a switch from the comedy mask to the tragic one, where Maurice has to say his last farewells. While it echoes an earlier draft of the play, Say Goodbye to Grandpa, it is positioned oddly under the current insouciant title. 

The melancholic note or two does not linger, though, before we are reassured by familiar wisdom about memories. It would be churlish to reject the charm of a happy ending. Certainly the opening night audience left the theatre full of smiles.

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