Twelve months ago I bought my wife a lovely, shiny car – a few years old, but tidy nonetheless.
As I drove it away from the dealer in Southsea, he chortled in a patronising manner ‘...it’ll probably never look that spotless again’.
Honest words from a car salesman.
If you’ve parented children, then you’ll understand that the inside of your car often resembles the dried fruit and biscuit aisle of Aldi after someone has detonated a grenade.
A parent’s tolerance to detritus increases over time.
It reaches the point that you don’t bat an eyelid at a gummed cheese-string smeared into your once pristine velour.
Until you have a guest in the car.
This week I interviewed a well-known and highly-regarded international rugby player, who has amassed nearly 100 caps for his country and is playing for one of England’s leading sides.
A change in circumstances meant he had to drop his car with his girlfriend.
So he asked if I minded giving him a lift to the filming location.
Spend an hour with a charismatic athlete, priming him for our interview? Sounded perfect.
As he was pecking his supermodel missus on the cheek and handing over the keys to his gleaming new BMW, I was on all fours scraping up the Easter-break accumulation from the passenger seat and foot-well.
If you took three kilograms of raisins, a box of cheese biscuits, 11 moist tissues and some ham, smeared it all over the seats and then encouraged a long-haired border collie to writhe in it, that’s the sort of funk my wife’s car was emitting for our celebrity friend.
Three men cleaning that car for a full day would struggle to bring it up to a healthy legal standard, so my 30 seconds of frantically scraping the seat did little to camouflage the carnage.
Just like a mother would warn about the perils of clean underpants in the case of an accident (clearly that would be the first thing on your mind).
Make sure your motor is tidy and up to speed.
If it isn’t, it could be your guest wiping their feet on the pavement when they get out.
When it comes to advances in technology, I’m a little geeky. I’m always intrigued to see how white-coated folk can unleash their brilliant squeaky little brains to invent something that will make our planet greener, friendlier, healthier or more fun.
Like 3D glasses for a praying mantis.
Yes genuinely, scientists at the University of Newcastle stuck a pair to the insect’s face with beeswax to try to gain a better understanding of depth and vision. The creatures will watch films of flies and scientists will then apply their findings to something humanly beneficial.
It could be worse for the mantis. They could make him sit and endure the searing insipidness of EastEnders in its 29th year. Ian Beale in 3D is animal cruelty.
What a great season of football we’ve witnessed so far – and there are still a few weeks to go. Who wants to be in the Premier League with the pointless bravado and staving-off of a whipping each week? Give me a good old dirty dog-fight in League Two any day of the week.
Then Boro’ have scrambled up the Conference South table like a rat up a drain pipe in recent weeks. That’s on top of their historic trip to Wembley.
Havant & Waterlooville have a last chance gasp to make the play-offs in Kent today too. The Hawks should see off lowly Tonbridge Angels.
We may not be toting many England players in this part of Hampshire at the moment, but we do have tenacity, desire and honest graft by the shedload.