That Certain Age

After all the recent references to "that certain age" I'm beginning to fear mine might have finally arrived. The senile variety!
Two magpies seem to have adopted me, as I've been throwing out bread crusts etc. during our wintry months and the maggies turn up regularly at the kitchen window at breakfast time.
I think they must be mother and daughter because they get on so amicably; no fighting over the food.

If I'm a bit slow, as sometimes I can be, they tap their beaks on the glass as if to say "Hurry up Grandad; your table service is shocking" and I'm saying "OK; keep your feathers on. I've only got one pair of hands"
Who should I see about this?
I love their throaty warble when they point their beaks to the sky and I almost kid myself that they're singing my praises for looking after them.
I know I'll be in big trouble if I join in the chorus.
The downside of all this are the "calling cards" they leave after perching on the patio furniture, but I'm putting up with that, as I'm a big softy at heart and would never chase them off.
So there you are Doctors! What's your diagnosis?
And don't forget I'm an OAP, so no fee applies.!
Good Warbling.