Adrian Mole: Diary of a Provincial Man

It's a royal knockout

Tuesday, July 3

Glenn has been very subdued lately, he has stopped talking and is off his food. I tried to talk to him, but he brushed me off as though I were a loathsome insect.

I consulted the handbook Parents Are From Hove, Teenagers Are From Brighton. On page 31 it said, "Keep the channels of communication open, but do not let your teen control the domestic agenda. If your questions are ignored, smile and say, 'I hear your silence. Should you wish to share your thoughts with me, I will always be here for you, 24-seven. "

William has put his small foot down and has refused to be deposited into Safeway's crèche twice a day at 8am and 4pm. This means that I no longer have a valid excuse to see Mary-Lou Hattersley, the divine supervisor of that kiddies' establishment. I will have to borrow a toddler. I have to see her.

Prince Philip and Prince Charles were on the news, stamping about in knee-high boots and wearing cocked hats, medals and epaulettes; they looked like extras from Zulu. Don't they know the game is up? It is ridiculous in the age of interactive television. In fact, I may write to the privy council and suggest that in future the royals withdraw from public life and satisfy the lust of their monarchist followers by appearing in a Big Brother-like TV show. They could then dress up and swagger around in as many costumes as they liked. It would certainly cut down on their transport costs, which I understand are considerable.

Wednesday, July 4 (American Independence Day)

Glenn is being bullied at school. He is the only boy in his class who does not have his own mobile phone. He is a pariah.

Bumped into Pamela Pigg in Safeway. She is still going out with Alan Clarke. He was wearing an Arran sweater. It is chilly by the frozen food cabinets, but I was comfortable enough in my shirtsleeves, so perhaps he was going on to a «gig» after shopping. I suppose there must be a few folk clubs left in the land.

Mr Blair was said to have been «savaged» by his own backbenchers at prime minister's questions. This was a gross distortion. He was asked a few facetious questions by a trio of toothless curs.