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As Father’s Days go, it was pretty much perfect. Both daughters came home for the occasion and it was great to have the house full again, even if daughter #1 did try and yank the For Sale sign out of the front garden.

Even if they’d turned up empty-handed it would have been absolutely fine. When you get to my age you’ve generally accumulated more than your fair share of stuff. We’re now in the dispersal stage of the treasure trove of late 80s/early 90s nostalgia to lighten the load before the big move.

However, our daughters are nothing if not thoughtful. The latest Lovely Eggs album on green vinyl and a framed copy of the front cover of the book I wrote - about them when they were seven and four. ….

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For Father's Day I received a framed copy of the front cover of the book I wrote

It wasn’t raining, for once, so we all took our sighthound Walter out for a big long walk. Daughter #1 loves the novelty of holding his lead, which is a welcome break for yours truly, especially when he sees a big silly floof of a cat 100 yards away and yanks my shoulder out of its socket as he gets up to full speed in two strides.

If nothing else, he road tests my five-year-old replacement radial head at least twice a day. Perfect eyesight and the reactions of a cheetah. He’s nine in a couple of months and is rapidly turning into a cranky, middle-aged man. Can’t think where he gets it from…

Mind you, the hound novelty doesn’t extend to picking up his steaming, safari park lion-sized poos, of which he normally curls off four or possibly five on a two-hour walk. That’s my job, that is. Always has been, always will be.

Then it was back to ours for lunch, cooked by me, which was eaten with all the grateful relish of two women in their early 20s who have moved out and have to buy, drag home and cook their own dinner every night. There is no longer any “What’s this!?”, “Onions?” or “I’m not eating that”, with a silent **** at the end.

Plates were enthusiastically cleared of chicken salad, chickpeas, sun-dried tomatoes, olives, feta and anything else I could lay my hands on out of the fridge.

It’s weird, but when they were little their favourite dinner was “Bits and Bobs”, which, little did they know, was whatever was left in the cupboards and the fridge in the days leading up to payday. Carrot sticks, grapes, crisps and a cheese sandwich cut into the initial of their first name. These days, their meal of choice is whatever’s on the specials board at Dishoom.

But all too soon it was time for them to go back to their adult lives in the big city. Daughter #1 drove herself in her natty little hatchback, which is the cleanest car I’ve ever seen. I swear it still has that New Car Smell. And daughter #2’s lift arrived an hour or so later.

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Who's The Daddy: Perfect Father’s Day with a house full once again