It's child’s play to defeat me

I know that at Chanucah, our thoughts are meant to turn to children. But do they have to dominate to such a degree? My three overshadow my every waking move. But then, that might be because they are better than me at everything. You name it, my two sons and daughter make me look bad at it. This should be a source of parental pride. It is more often the cause of embarrassment.

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Hypnotherapy? I'm back in the room

You left me last month having decided, after years of worrying about everything from nuclear war to the price of oil (spot the connection), to pay a visit to my local hypnotherapist, to see if he or s

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What do her parents want - James Dean?

I don't know about you, but I tend to get on rather well with parents and children. Not my own, you understand - other people's. I seem to have no trouble entertaining and/or controling other people's kids whenever the need arises, whereas my three are generally unmoved either by my efforts to impose discipline or by my attempts at humour.

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Proud to be daddy's boy

I notice from scouring the personal ads, as you do, that a lot of Jewish women single out as the attribute that they find most unattractive in a man an over-reliance on their mum. In which case I am surely their worst nightmare, because even though I long ago reached full adulthood - well, full-ish - I still call upon the services of my parents more frequently than is probably right or proper. And I've been doing it more and more since I got divorced.

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Meet my ex-in-laws - I think

I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to my parents, who will inevitably be reading this, because, in the three years that I have been living in my house, I have never quite got round to inviting them over for tea. But I did have my in-laws over last week.

Did I say in-laws? I meant ex-in-laws. The parents of my ex-wife. Outlaws? No, that's not right, although I believe there is the shady matter of an overdue library book when they were crazy young marrieds that we won't go into here.

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I'm getting dumped, all because of soap

So, I've been seeing a young lady for a few weeks. But before all you single females out there start wailing, believing you've lost your chance with London's most eligible nebbish, let me reassure you that this new relationship of mine may not last forever. In fact, it may not last till the end of next week.

How, you're wondering, is it possible that, in between the last column and this one, the romance has begun, blossomed and is already withering on the vine? Even Jordan and her cage fighter have managed better than that.

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My night of text mania

Most men go to the pub or watch the footie. Me, when I'm bored, I go meshuggeh with my mobile phone.

I'm a text maniac. A text pest, only the real victim is me, when I get my bill. I'm allowed 500 free texts per month, but somehow I manage to exceed the limit every time. Which is amazing, considering I only have six friends, and I rarely, if ever, text any of them.

There is something about the text that suits people you hardly know; it seems a little cursory to dispatch a conversation with someone you've known for three decades in a three-line - or even three-word - message.

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An old girlfriend, fresh humiliation

In the last Suddenly Single I concluded that, having temporarily run out of ways to meet new girls, it might be an idea to reacquaint myself with some old ones, and by "old" I mean females I knew in the past rather than women of pensionable age.

Then again, I might have more luck with the bus pass and blue-rinse set. Besides, is it just me or are OAPs looking hotter these days? I'd go to bingo every week if the crowd was full of Stephanie Beachams. Unfortunately, at my local Mecca in Watford the clientele is more Pat Butcher - "two fat ladies" is probably about right.

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Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and a date from hell

Just in case any of the JC's more impressionable female readers are labouring under the illusion that the writer of this column is in some ways a decent catch with a vaguely exciting career and attendant glamorous lifestyle, please allow me to tell you this cautionary tale. It is the story of a date from hell that I went on the other week and it should singlehandedly put the kibosh on any chances I might have had with the opposite sex for the foreseeable future.

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