Tiny Flirt has inherited more than his looks from us. He has his mother’s high principles and my bloody-mindedness. And he wanted to walk the dog this evening.

By the time we reached the park, several of our neighbours were standing at their front doors, wanting to know what evil cruelty I was inflicting upon this poor, innocent child to make him scream so. Oh, how they laughed when they heard his cries of “Let go!” and saw his attempts to wrestle Holly’s lead from my hand. “My turn! I want Holly!”

Once safely off the road and onto the grass, I made Holly sit and gave Tiny Flirt the lead.

The battle of wills between my furious, thirty-six inch tall son and the exuberant five month old puppy was short. She ran for it – but Tiny Flirt would not let go of the lead. Nor would he let me hold on to him for safety. So Tiny Flirt was dragged on his tummy across the park, shouting “Sit! Naughty Holly!”

And the minute Tiny Flirt was picked up and dusted off, Holly was duly told off and marched back to the house – where she was made to sit on the Naughty Step.

That’ll teach her.

Being a teacher, Darling Wifey is used to hearing excuses – and we all know the great classic, “The Dog Ate It.”

So when she said to me this evening, “The dog ran off with my credit card…”

So we went ice-skating.

Once again, Darling wifey’s mother offered to have the Tribe for a day and allow us to have some fun. Darling Wifey and I spent some time weighing up other options (water-ski-ing in the North Sea, rally driving in Hamsterly Forest, ski-ing on the real snow at the Castleford indoor slope, single-seat racing driving at Croft…) before settling on a day out in Sheffield with a couple of her minions from work.

Who am I to complain about spending the day with a blonde, a brunette and a rehead?

Needless to say, a couple of seasons of roller hockey when I was a teenager was inadequate preparation for a day of ice-skating, and blue is now the colour of my chuff.

We returned to discover that the Mother-Outlaw had decided that we were cruelly neglecting Little Nutter, and that she had decided to put her sympathy into action. She brought him some big bags of sweets. Contraband sweets…

It took the next 18 hours for him to “come down” again. Gee, thanks.

Meanwhile, Humble Secretary came to visit us – always a pleasure. We had a day out in York with a mutual friend, watching Viking battles and longship races and physically restraining her from all the university students in the rowing clubs.

But the high point of the weekend was when Little Nutter saw me bring his PJs dowstairs and he ran into the kitchen to hide. I shrugged, changed Tiny Flirt’s nappy, and then followed him into the kitchen. Big mistake.

He had climbed onto a table and found the blue food colouring, with which he painted his face. When I found him and grabbed him, I got my hands covered in the stuff.

How do you remove blue food colouring?

Without a doubt, the best bit about dog ownership is walkies. And here we have a riverside walk just one minute away from the front door.

Walkies is along the city flood defenses, so you can imagine the mud! Wellies are essential.

Little Madam’s wellies were easy. Anything pink with fluffy trim will be irresistable. She wore them to bed.

Little Nutter regards his wellies as a subversive plot to ruin his life. They should be destroyed in a document shredder (yes, he tried) and the remains should then be burned.

And Tiny Flirt (who is now being renamed KAWABUNGA in tribute to his total lack of self-restraint) thought this looked like fun. He fed his wellies to the dog.

We go for walkies in smart shoes…

Now I’ve seen everything.

We have a lot of “chavs” in our school, although as this is a university town in the middle of North Yorkshire’s Golden Triangle they are known as “Townies” round here. They are also very easily spotted in school.

They are the ones with the 9ct gold plated stationery sets – inlcuding propelling pencil, ruler and drawing compasses.