It isn't always easy being the greatest dad in the world

We arrive back from Canada to the sopping remnants of our Cotswold home. Most of our belongings are drying out in the courtyard waiting for the loss adjuster to come and "adjust". Stacey meanwhile, has started the painstaking process of disinfecting every single piece of the children's Lego - she estimates that this will take 10 days. Maybe, when Stacey has finished cleaning it all, we can use it to build ourselves a new house? I shall put it to her when she has a minute, sometime around the year 2012.

The only high point of our return was to be reunited with Huxley, our gorgeous black Labrador. He had been staying with our friends Phil and Rachel and was the only person who'd actually enjoyed the floods. He had, apparently, been very keen to swim all around the house but had to be discouraged on account of the liquid being sewage. He bounced up to see us and we all gave him lots of love, all apart from my daughter, Parker, who was otherwise distracted. She'd missed Huxley so much while we were in Canada that I'd bought her a game for her Nintendo DS. It was called "Nintendogs" (see what they did there?) and it allows her to buy, train and play with her own cyber dog. She'd bought a black Labrador puppy, called her Daisy and is now totally in love with her. Huxley would sit at her feet looking cute while she commanded her cyber-mutt to roll over. Huxley would roll over, even adding a little twist for effect. Parker didn't notice. Huxley was devastated.

Stacey and I decided that, with no carpets in the house for the foreseeable future and Huxley needing a friend, this was the perfect time to get a new puppy. Friends of ours happened to have some for sale in West Sussex and so, the very next day, Parker and I set off to pick one up. We were only half an hour into the journey when Parker, who is prone to carsickness, threw up having tried to play her video game. I stopped in a lay-by and removed her vomit-covered dress that I placed carefully in the back of my pick-up. We then carried on with our journey but Parker was really unhappy at just being in her pants. I promised her that I'd stop as soon as I could find a shop. Sadly, there aren't many children's clothes stores on the M4.

I eventually turned off the motorway and headed for what looked like a sizeable town. It wasn't. The only shop in the whole place was Help the Aged's. I parked outside on some double yellow lines and ran in. It should have been called Help The Aged People Who Run This Shop To Get A Move On. It was like being stuck in a black hole where all time is suspended. As I desperately tried to communicate with someone I could see first a traffic warden approach my pick-up and then a couple of other passers-by.

They were all looking at Parker who was crouched down on the floor behind the passenger seat so that nobody would spot her. I ran out to try and explain why I had a six-year-old girl dressed only in her pants in the back of my creepy looking pick-up truck. It wasn't easy. Parker was so embarrassed that she refused to come out of the truck or to speak to anyone. I must have looked extremely dodgy with my recently grown Canadian beard and flood-stained clothes. I eventually managed to convince the "mob" that there was nothing untoward going on and I managed to get Parker a new outfit and get out of town alive.

We picked up the puppy, whom we've named Oscar. He is a flat- coated retriever and Parker fell in love with him straight away. As I sat in my pick-up on the way home I started to think about what a great and special dad I must be, sorting out car-vomit situations (way beyond my remit) and weaning children off electronic games by buying them cute little puppies. I was dragged out of my reveries by Parker screaming and crying- "DADDY... Oscar has just been sick all over me. I hate Oscar, he's horrible..." I parked the car in a lay- by, got her clothes off and started to try and find the nearest Help The Aged on my sat-nav. It's not easy being the world's best dad.

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