Sobriety is bad for my health

Another Saturday night and I'm laying in a crumpled, semi-nude mess at the foot of a staircase, covered in bruises, curry sauce and the foul stench of indignity.

Wasn't this just the sort of sorry predicament I had vowed to expunge from my new life as a responsible father? God knows I've tried my best.

Saturday had started out with such virtuous intentions. Up with the lark; a bowl of

muesli; a brisk run; work and then a visit to mum's. There are Trappist monks who keep to a less puritanical itinerary than that. I even swapped going to football for a four-year-old's birthday party in a church hall.

As I strolled home in the afternoon sunshine, pushing the littl'un along with a curious sense of sober frivolity, I thought to myself, "You've earned yourself a treat, young man."

And so I got a takeaway curry. And ate it in bed. In front of Match of the Day. In my