My 13-year-old lad is a good, old fashioned boy.

He likes nothing better than playing footie in the park until after dark, coming home for food, going out again and then refusing to shower.

He's got a kind temperament but is fiercely loyal and reacts badly if his dignity is challenged.

So when he emerged from defence with the ball at his feet in a Sunday league game only to stand on the ball (we've all done it) and a rival player laughed at him, I cringed.

I'VE just watched a fascinating programme entitled The World's Strictest Parents that should be compulsory viewing for all mums, dads...and children.

Take two stroppy teenagers, throw in a couple of all American boys who never done no bad and then add their amazing parents into the cocktail and you've got the recipe for gripping TV.

Dad is a good cop, bad cop combination of an SS officer and Ned Flanders from the Simpsons.

And here's the rub. His approach seems to work.

WHEN green slime started appearing on my bathroom walls I feared a supernatural presence was among us.

There were tick trails of the stuff by the light switch, blobs of the goo on the floor and rivulets of watery gunk by the skirting board.

We were genuinely baffled by what could be causing this unexplained activity.

WE'VE just returned from a two week break - and to be honest I'm glad to back in the office.

Spending time with a hormonal 15-year-old boy in a hotel in the searing heat is, take my word for it, absolute hell.

For starters they are NEVER EVER happy or contented and are ALWAYS hungry.

WE'VE just returned from a two week break - and to be honest I'm glad to back in the office.

Spending time with a hormonal 15-year-old boy in a hotel in the searing heat is, take my word for it, absolute hell.

For starters they are NEVER EVER happy or contented and are ALWAYS hungry.

WE'VE just returned from a two week break - and to be honest I'm glad to back in the office.

Spending time with a hormonal 15-year-old boy in a hotel in the searing heat is, take my word for it, absolute hell.

For starters they are NEVER EVER happy or contented and are ALWAYS hungry.

WE'VE just returned from a two week break - and to be honest I'm glad to back in the office.

Spending time with a hormonal 15-year-old boy in a hotel in the searing heat is, take my word for it, absolute hell.

For starters they are NEVER EVER happy or contented and are ALWAYS hungry.

WE'VE just returned from a two week break - and to be honest I'm glad to back in the office.

Spending time with a hormonal 15-year-old boy in a hotel in the searing heat is, take my word for it, absolute hell.

For starters they are NEVER EVER happy or contented and are ALWAYS hungry.

WE'RE looking to buy a new, slightly bigger house at the moment...but we've made a dreadful, dreadful mistake.

Trying to be oh so modern parents and involving the children in our final decision is turning into a living nightmare.

I remember once watching the marvellous comedian Dave Allen mimicking his children scouring the fridge for food.

Like little Nearnderthals he told how they flung open the fridge door with the barely intelligible chant of "anythingdecentinere" usually following by the wail of "theresnevereanythingdecentinthebloodyfridge".

I laughed along with my favourie Irish comic, little knowing that his impression would come back to haunt me.