Sitting Daggers

Jamie's bath over - before which our loving son peed all over my clean jeans - you would think the Whites' childly duties would be drawing to a close this fine day.

Hell no.

For, in a few minutes from now, we're heading off to babysit a 42-year-old (and his lovely little son Oliver, but he's easy).

For those of you who don't know him (and I envy you all), Dagenham Dave is my brother-in-law. He's also what can most politely be described as a divvy.

Actually from Guildford (but Dagenham goes better with Dave which is why Dagenham it is), Dave is married to Vanessa's long-suffering sister Hannah.

Today's his birthday and, because Hannah's heading out to drum for an hour later this evening (don't start me), we've been invited to keep Daggers entertained whilst she's away. We'll then be rewarded with tea.

This is a very kind gesture and I look forward to it immensely, principally because Dave might be starting to run out of words by then.

A "cheeky chappy" in the traditional style, old Daggers talks absolute, complete and utter b*lls at all times. Yes, it does tend to be extremely amusing but BOY can he talk.

And, being my brother-in-law, I'm stuck with him until one of us dies. What a thought.

Dagenham Dave is the telly on the right of the picture taken at a "black and white" party two years ago. Beside him is Hannah (dressed as a domino - obviously), her brother Jonathan (as the Phantom of the Opera) and me (as a priest).

But just look at Dave. What an idiot.

They say the camera never lies and it's true, for Daggers truly is wired up. If I had my way, he'd be wired to something very different. And sharp.

OK, time to go - bring on the fool..!