We are all talking bollocks when addressing this thread.

But the exalted ones are allowed by the grace of Clapton to be ironic.

Betty Swollox she ain't. Trust me on that one.....

Anyway, back to the thread.

I managed to be embarrassing Dad at the weekend. Out shopping with my lad and his family, I noticed the shops were getting ready for Chrimbo and moaning about the fact, (I'm allowed.). I picked up a string bag of Baby Bell Edam cheeses and said, somewhat louder than I should have... "We can put this on the tree! It's its .. The little baby cheeses!"

A bit like wearing waistcoats and dancing at weddings. Or as Harvey Andrews pointed out, just being Dad.

My daughter in law pointed out I was not accompanying her, drunk or sober, to midnight mass on Chrimbo Eve. Good. Little do they know that the party animal of dubious reputation will be sound asleep with an empty Horlicks mug at the side of the bed these days come the witching hour. Dreaming of the socks and leather car atlas with matching driving gloves.