So, I'm not the only clown in the village | Blaise Tapp

Much to the chagrin of Mrs Tapp, I am the world champion shrinker of expensive blouses and have burnt the bottom of more pans than I care to remember. It is pot luck if the four-year-old goes to school with his hair combed and remembering where I have parked the car doesn’t get easier.

When I drop the ball, I do it in style, such as inadvertently posting my front door keys in a pillar box. But that pales into insignificance next to the clanger I dropped last week.

Typically, I was cutting the post-school pick-up a bit fine, which probably explains why I left my wallet on top of the car while I strapped in the youngest.

I realised I had left my wallet on top of the car when I heard it slide off on a dual carriageway less than five minutes after setting off. The sound of a valuable possession flying off your car roof is as unmistakable as it is galling. I should know as last week was the second time I had done it. The first time I was a dozy teenager.

It was 6.30pm and raining hard, so the odds of recovering the wallet were stacked against me. I called it a night after an hour before cancelling my bank and credit cards, not to mention ordering a new driving licence. Although I did recover the wallet, its contents, including £65, had disappeared.

It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t annoyed by my buffoonery, but rather than keep it to myself I shared my shame.

A confession to colleagues, messages and calls to amused but wholly unsurprised pals not to mention virtual friends on social media, not only cheered my mood but reassured me that I’m not the only clown in the village. I learned others had done similar things.

It is better to laugh at yourself in the open than let others mutter about you behind your back.

I also see it as a public service – we live in a world where people tend to project their own achievements. It is important to know there is always somebody dafter than you.