After dinner, I always plonk myself down in front of the telly for half an hour before facing into the rest of the evening. Just as my arse hits the armchair a string of requests start.

The gentle whoomph of cushions being momentarily displaced acts like a kiddie sonar.

Quick, she’s sitting down, let’s find loadsa random crap to ask her for.” Inevitably one of my lot will;

* Need a wee… And you’re telling me this because? I’m pretty sure you don’t need an audience kid. But then again, maybe I’ll play you at your own game. Mum peeing is a spectator sport in this family. Full house every time.

* Need a drink… Yup, the big silver thing in the kitchen is called a sink. Taps are attached and they dispense a suitable drinking substance 24/7. Just locate one of the 4378 cups or glasses you’ve used already today, and you’re good to go. You’ve got this one kid.

* Need food… Right, I bet the dinner you half picked at an hour ago is looking pretty good about now so? Nuke it, eat it and get over it.

* Start a row… I don’t want to know kids. Unless someone draws blood just sort that shit out yourselves. I don’t care if your brother called you a fart-head. Coz you could’ve been called worse, far worse.

* Smash something and cut themselves… Right, if it’s glass I’ll probably deal with it. And no, please don’t ‘help’ coz that’ll just cause bleeding and then I’ll have to clean that up too, find plasters and generally lose my shit.

* Need to put on their Anna from Frozen / Belle from Beauty & The Beast dress… And then want to take it straight off again. It’s like trying to wrestle an alligator.

* Urgently require you to watch their latest trampolining exploits… Just don’t fall out, get concussed and make me spend 5 hours in A&E. Been there, done that. It’s a pain in the hoop.

* Decide to stick a fork in the toaster… Might actually check that one out. Fried child smells weird and there’s only so much burning flesh odour a reed diffuser can mask…

Yet as soon as I stand up to get back to whatever jobs I’ve left half-done and might require their assistance with, they’ll disappear without trace.

Feckers!