My weekend, and indeed my year is now complete.
The Christmas pictures of Prince George have been released.
Looking like a refugee from the 2nd World War (admittedly a well-fed one) he’s pictured sitting on steps at Kensington Palace dressed in a blue jumper with pictures of palace guards knitted into it. Funnily enough, when I was a kid my mum knitted me a jumper with a very similar pattern showing palace guards, resplendent in their full uniforms.
Unfortunately it was supposed to depict Thomas the Tank engine, a fact which neatly goes to demonstrate the main difference between my mum and the Duchess of Cambridge. Although it has to be said, mum also sometimes accidentally cut the arms off. Bless.
I’m often asked if I watch X=Factor.
Obviously, the correct reply is “No, I was too busy cutting my ears off with a pair of garden shears.” Or, “I was otherwise engaged scratching my eyes out with a rusty nail.” But that would be too shocking for the sensitive souls who express a desire to examine my TV viewing habits.
And I do have a morbid fascination with the show; an expertly produced circus of staged emotion and generally untalented, unknown and unloved performers who, winners or not, eventually become unstuck.
So, god forbid, if the wife ever died, I’d have to keep her in her chair facing the TV until the series end, just so that I could continue to give the only acceptable male response to the questioning of their weekend nights viewing habits, which is of course: “I have it on, but only because my wife is watching it.”
The government has scrapped the law forbidding teachers to touch children in schools. I don’t know what the Pope said to get David Cameron to agree to that, but it’s certainly a coup for the Catholic church.
We’re definitely getting too soft. When I was at school they threw bits of chalk and rubbers at you if you misbehaved, didn’t do me any harm. It did get a bit messy though, some of the rubbers still had spunk in them.