Hit 'em where it hurts, that' what I say.
It may be half-term and I actually have a week off, but it's wall-to-wall decorating (literally) in our house.
Not much of a holiday, and certainly not one that went down well with Nick, who seems to think we should be spending the week away and eating at La Tasca every night.
Oh, how I will enjoy when he has his own kids and they expect the world. One of the benefits of being a grandparent, I think – constantly being able to say to your children "I told you so" and feeling smug.
Anyway, Vanessa's always been more than happy to offer her help in household projects – she's a veteran of many decorating sprees and has developed a talent for building up flat-pack furniture.
I thought the best thing would be to try and involve Nick. I asked him if he wanted to help with the painting, to which he replied: "No. I've never been any good at drawing."
After I explained it was decorating, not the stuff Picasso used to churn out, he still wasn't keen.
I went for the jugular at this point – cash and lasses, as he now charmingly refers to the opposite sex.
Firstly, I explained, if you want to live in this house when you're older and buy it off me, it would be in your best interests to actually help to keep the damp in the basement away, otherwise it will cost YOU thousands of pounds.
And secondly, women like men who have DIY skills and don't appear to be lazy wasters who spend their life pretending to be Batman on a computer.
Funnily enough, he agreed to give emulsioning the walls a go. Hit 'em where it hurts, that' what I say.
Nick's just been for a check-up at the dentist and although there were no fillings, he got a "must do better".
Despite threats, timing, chart and goodness knows what else over the years, he's never appreciated how important cleaning his teeth is.
He confidently expects to have inherited my teeth – I've never had a filling – when he could just as easily been lumbered genetically with his dad's, who has had loads of dental problems.
But, when you're a kid, you just don't think of stuff like that – you're indestructible.
However, I suspect his teeth won't last as long as Stonehenge and on the dentist's recommendation, bought him an electric toothbrush.
He loves gadgets and it times how long he has to clean his teeth for to get all the filth off.
But there have been a few teething troubles, if you'll pardon the pun.
We noticed the new bathroom tiles were covered in white blotches – at ceiling level. It took quite a while to realise that it was toothpaste.
He'd been switching the brush on before putting it into his mouth – and the toothpaste was flying off at high velocity as it hit his teeth.
At this rate, I suspect we may have to get him a welder's mask to contain the toothpaste explosions!
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Print this page- Sunderland’s astonishing rise even surprising Martin O’Neill
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Weather for Sunderland
Friday 10 February 2012
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