Thankfully I have one.
This is the first Tuesday in three that I won't be forced on stage to take part in the daddies' dancing competition in what was our Tenerife hotel.
In week one, I was poor.
In week two, I was, well, you can make your own mind up.
We're trying to follow the moves of the fun lovin' criminal wearing the crown. Natch.
And if you can't spot which one is me, then that's your gain.
There is only so much a daddy can give, and I gave my all. But it was not enough. Such a shame. The winner's orange tee shirt would have gone ever so well with my too short shorts.
