I hate half-term.

Don't know why but our kids seem to be allergic to the garden. I have to scream and threaten them to run out and play with the wendy house, slide, trikes and kiddie patio set we've got out there. There's barely room for us to move out there, barely room for our grownups patio set, no room at all to test-run the six-man tent I want to buy.

But they won't go out. They'll play all the mad, TV-smashing games you like inside the house, they'll run up and down the stairs and wreck their rooms, they'll sit and watch thirteen hours of FUCKING Cbeebies, but asking them to go and play outside is like asking them to gnaw their own legs off.

What did I do to deserve a pair of fresh air phobic kids, eh? Just now, one of them told me they wouldn't go out because they're scared of bees and wasps, so I dutifully lit a massive garden sized citronella jostick. It seems the only solution is for me to sit outside with them, bored out of my mind, unable to hear the phone ring, do essential business stuff on the computer, or shift from my position without two bloody shadows on my heels. If I want a drink, two kids follow me to the sink. If I want the loo, I have to negotiate some privacy with two stalkers. If I want to write a blog entry, or do some washing, I have to do it over the shoulders of two bouncing kids. It's not like they don't know how to leave me alone. They both spend more than half their time at school or nursery, playing with their friends, on their own. So why not do it here?

It's not as if we don't give them enough of our own time. I spend almost every waking hour (average 20 per day) playing with them or doing things with them. My only times off are shopping trips or the small hours of sleep I snatch (two and a half hours today, which is about average). Apart from that, I have to be on call for everything. I'm a dad firstly and foremost from 7.30 every morning until - potentially - 4.30 the next morning. I have three hours a day to fit in relaxation and sleep.

Yep, I'm feeling a little put-upon today. Thanks for listening (or, judging by the sluggish pace of the hit-counter, staying away in your thousands).