Having a three year old I’ve become accustomed to dealing with a rough nights sleep or poo on the carpet but one thing I’m still not used to is their undeniable ability to consistently, albeit accidently find and hit your testicles.

Every time Fred climbs over me he finds his heel dug into my crown jewels, my reaction immediately telling him he’s hit the target as he grins and informs me yet again it is my balls crushed underneath his size six feet by exclaiming ‘that your balls daddy?’

Even affection sometimes comes in the form of a ball bashing as he sprints headfirst to give me a cuddle and his skull crashes into my gonads, leaving mummy in stitches and me feeling like I might need them.

Once when he was still a little nipper and biting everything in sight a normal day at home turned disastrous as he found me gracefully sat man spreading on the sofa and immediately ran to bite my crotch, obviously completely unaware of the dire consequences and that daddy would spend the next ten minutes writhing on the floor like a wounded seal.

In fact this unfortunate circumstance has happened so often that one day he decided action must be taken! ‘Where’s your balls daddy, you’ve lost your balls’ he quipped. Seconds later and with my lost and found posters at the ready Freddie kindly informed me that the only person to help with this atrocity was in the form of Thomas the tank engines good friend Percy. A half hour phonecall followed as I was passed from Percy onto Annie and Clarabel, eventually only to find out that in fact Gordon was the culprit after all and that mummy was very unimpressed by the scenario which had just unfolded in front of her.

Fortunately he’s still too young to understand all of this but one day I’m sure it will all be forgotten and my crown jewels will finally be free to live without fear..