True confessions

We've all been there

Your better half has arranged a rare night out with her new best friends. 'No one can really understand just how I feel right now like Beth and Alison', she says. 'We're going out to have a couple of glasses of chilled white wine and pretend we're 21 again, free from sleepless nights and soiled nappies - I can't wait. Can you babysit darling? It's been sooo long since I saw the girls'.

Actually, it was earlier that very day in the park, by the swings, while you were sweating your bollocks off at work.

So, she goes out. Naturally, you seize the opportunity to flop in front of an action movie or go trawling the fleshpots of the world-wide web. You're tired. You've not been sleeping either. You might just as well grow a pair of knockers and help with the breast feeding for a few weeks.

'My nipples are so sore,' she says. 'It's like having a small rabid creature sucking the life-blood out of me'. You bite back the observation that this was all she wanted in the world ten months ago.

Anyway: she's out. You're tired. You fall asleep in front of the telly or computer screen. Little Jack wakes up at the exact moment your loved one drunkenly turns the key in the front door. She comes in. Hears crying. You're snoring and dribbling in front of the telly. Or even face-down on the keyboard with something indescribable happening on the screen, a virgin box of Kleenex to your right,
a cold mug of Horlicks to your left. She's not very happy. A guaranteed fumble in the dark with your rarely horny squeeze has just been postponed for another long, dry month.

We've all been there. Now you can share your tales of woe here.

Let's face it: we were never meant to be good at this sort of thing. So why not celebrate our incompetence? We try, after all. Most of us fail a lot of the time but it's the trying that counts. And when it gets too trying for words - well, that's what Dad Club's for. Just click here and away you go...