The school holidays seem to have flown by. Daughter is counting down the few days she has left and trying to cram in as much fun as possible.

My brother has been to stay for a few days, accompanied by his 11-year-old son, Alex, who is about to start senior school.

They were on their way home back up North after a few days in France. Both kids decided a night-time trip to the pier was an essential part of the visit, so we all traipsed down there at the weekend.

After feeding far too much of our spare change (I don't know why it's called 'spare' change - I need all my money) into slot machines, we went on a few of the rides.

Being reluctant to spend more money making myself feel sick, and not liking the fast or spinning rides, I limited myself to the dodgem cars.

Daughter decided to be my opponent but then got cross because I kept 'bumping' her.

"Why didn't you look where you were going?" she asked after we got off.

"I was," I said.

"Well, why did you keep hitting me then?"

"Because that's the point of it. You are supposed to hit other people's cars and I wasn't going to hit perfect strangers in case they came after me after the ride was finished," I said.

"It's not my fault that I am very, very good at steering dodgem cars and you are very, very bad and kept getting stuck on the sides making yourself the perfect target."

I did feel a bit guilty the next day when she came downstairs to point out the large bruise on her knee.

I just like to think I am toughening her up in preparation for real life.

Anyway, she got her own back the next day by going shopping and returning with a hamster.

I had said she could spend the rest of her holiday money on whatever she wanted and should have thought to exclude any further livestock.

"This is Chico," she announced. "She is going to live in my bedroom."

"It is a rat," said her dad in perfect imitation of Basil Fawlty.

He doesn't like rodents, especially after we had one under the floorboards a few years ago.

"It's not a rat, she is a hamster," replied daughter just like Manuel.

I left them to it but laid down a few ground rules about cleaning the cage out regularly, closing the bedroom door to make sure the cats couldn't get in, and remembering to feed both Chico and the rest of our miniature zoo.

Daughter promised to abide by these rules and so Chico has taken up residence along with the dog, the two cats, the snake, the stick insects and the lovebirds.

My brother and Alex returned home the next day, probably looking forward to their own pet-free existence.