There was just no avoiding dad dancing at the disco

Bruno Mars

RICK JACKSON: We got back at 3am, but I’m so glad we saw Bruno

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My 11-year-old son enjoyed a residential trip to Okehampton in Devon last week.

Before he boarded the coach I told him to make sure he behaved himself and kept away from any silly behaviour that might occur in the dormitory.

Apparently last year, on exactly the same trip, a dad was asked to drive to Devon and collect his son, who had disgraced himself.

The only thing that put a bit of a downer on the whole week was the fact that my dad was there!

I told my son that if I received such a call, I would be using his pocket money to pay for my fuel to Devon.

I remember going on a school day trip to Wimbledon to watch the tennis, I chose to sit on the back row of the coach and this proved to be a big mistake.

People started making rude gestures to the drivers behind and showing them Page 3 pictures of Sam Fox.

What these naughty fellow pupils hadn’t realised is that writ large on the back of the school coach was the telephone number. We were really very easy to trace.

Unsurprisingly, the next day the unimpressed headmaster summoned several of the pupils, me included, to his office for a one-to-one about representing the school in public!

Lou: When I was 10 I went on a brilliant school trip to the Isle of Wight.

We stayed for a week in an activity centre where we did loads of exciting things like rock climbing, obstacle courses and archery.

The only thing that put a bit of a downer on the whole week was the fact that my dad was there!

My school was really tiny, with only about 90 kids in total, and only one male teacher.

So when Mr Kettle hurt his back, they had to find another adult male to accompany us on the trip or we couldn’t go.

My dad was really involved with school music, so all the kids knew him.

So he was invited into the head teacher’s office and asked if he’d go along.

I spent the whole week trying to avoid him and he probably did the same.

All in all this worked pretty well, until the disco on the final night.

I’m afraid there’s just no avoiding dad dancing!

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