My Basil Fawlty moment over Sockgate | BBC Radio Solent's Alun Newman

This piece is then reserved for a moment that has never happened in my life, when there is a spillage that occurs or damage that requires the back-up section of carpet to be fitted and the stain cut out.

Who has ever done that?

In our case you would need a reason to cut out a 9ft long and 3ft wide section.

That would equate to someone drop-kicking a cup of coffee or glass of red wine.

Or, it’s about the right size for a dead body.

As long as the victim falls face down with their arms by their side.

Nevertheless, I keep the off-cuts.

The reality for our family is that the carpets we buy are cheap and destroyed by the dog and people eating food without ‘keeping it on the island’ – grandad’s saying for keeping your food on the plate.

However, for the first time in my neurotic life I was able to unfurl the carpet and use it to catch a criminal.

By some cruel twist of fate everyone in the family was wearing new socks.

My wife had bought a selection and distributed them to the children. All the socks were black.

I had purchased some black sport socks.

My wife had purchased some separate dog walking socks which are thicker and go with dog-walking leggings, hooded jumper and dog-walking coat.

My son had purchased black socks for the gym.

None of this was in any way an issue until 47 million tiny bits of black fluff started appearing around the house.

At first I remained calm and said nothing but as the situation escalated I became agitated.

House cleaning day is Friday after work and we all have our roles.

The entire house was vacuumed to varying degrees of quality and within minutes, if not seconds, the black bits started returning.

I became overwhelmed and called my usual family meeting but, true to form, no one was to blame.

As everyone wandered off I flew upstairs like Basil Fawlty with too much caffeine and disappeared into the loft.

Within minutes I returned with the ridiculous strip of once pointless carpet.

I called all parties to the front room, demanded they adorned their new socks and, like an American traffic cop in the middle of a roadside bust, I asked each person to walk up and down the carpet.

There was reluctance but I held my finger over the wifi off button – wielded like a parental taser – until I got what I wanted.

The culprit was located quickly.

It was my wife.

All parties except the guilty one laughed, pointed and went back to their screens.

I was accused of forcing the purchase of cheap socks and I was reminded that I don’t do my share of dog walks.

Also, I was tasked with buying some higher quality socks and asked if I remembered the last time I had brought home flowers, though I struggled to see what relevance that had to the cheap sock nightmare I was resolving. It was a heavy price, but worth paying.

I knew that piece of carpet would come in handy. Back into the loft it went ready for the next time I needed to annoy everyone.

Beef burger scented candles…

I’ve always been a fan of the scented candle.

I’m aware that’s me putting myself out there but the world’s moved on.

In my opinion they’re never great but they douse down the stink of damp, wet dog.

As it's rained every day since October we need all the help we can get.

I’ve always gone for Fresh Linen, Spiced Apple, or Cinnamon.

However, there’s been a rise in big companies coming on board.

KFC offers a fried chicken candle.

McDonalds offers six scents of the foodstuffs that make the burger – tomato sauce, beef, pickles, you get the picture.

Sure, it’s all PR puff trying to get their brand in your head, but they might be onto something.

Think of an aroma you like. Is it available in a candle?

You could light the Sunday Roast candle even if you were just having beans for lunch.

The Cut Grass candle even if you are in a block of flats.

How about the I’ve Just Baked Bread candle even though you’re eating cut loaf?

All you have to do now is work out how to get your favourite smells into wax and, with the power of the internet, this time next year you could be a millionaire.

I’m off to work out how to condense the smell of a Victoria sponge cake.

I may be a while.