Father's Day is a big day in the life of a man, so please this year, let's not spoil it with crummy presents. I know, I know. I should be moved. I should be grateful. I am, really. Many children, and their mothers, think long and hard before buying gifts for dad. In my experience, however, it's never quite long and hard enough.
The real father-giving favourites are ties and shaving requisites. I must say, I've never understood ties. I cannot begin to imagine what was in the mind of the first person who looked at a man and said, "What that neck really needs is a thin bit of material around it, hanging down to, let's say, the belly button ..."
And after-shave lotion? Not really. The first time I wore it, as an impressionable adolescent, I was told by a schoolmaster that I smelled like a 'fish's bosom'. I have never subsequently been able to check exactly what that smells like, but the notion haunts me still.
So what does daddy want? Quite frankly, daddy doesn't want anything on Father's day, except a smile and a kiss and a reasonably clear run at the Frosties. You insist? Well, a crate of something bottled in Burgundy would probably hit the spot. Ah, you've found a mini-torch which whistles in the dark and lights up keyholes at 300 yards ... How ever have I got to my age without one?