How many times can you disassemble a climbing frame?

The answer to that question is well over ten million times in one afternoon. The secret is to gather as many workman's tools as possible into one area, randomly distribute them around your garden, rip open all related packs of nails, washers and bolts provided and empty on an uneven surface (preferably near thick foliage); DO NOT READ ANY ASSEMBLY INSTRUCTIONS WHATSOEVER (this is a sign of weakness) and begin random construction at once. The only other added ingredient is an afternoon's supply of beer.

In such a manner I proceeded with firstly my wife and then my mate Chris - to build a scale replica of Noah's arc. Half way through erecting the third set of V frame timbers - half way through - I began to worry. Had someone started coralling elephants, Zebra and Wildebeest outside in the front garden? If so - they were in luck.

Now - my forte is pretty much demolition. Actual bona fide construction and me don't go together - but there must have been some powerful DIY pherenomes in the air this bank holiday and some managed to wash off on me. As such - I was able to mash up one drill head before my mate quickly took the power hammer drill back off me. Drills and Tom don't go together. In fact - there was a vaguely iffy moment when my wife added a new plug to the black and decker and handed it to me. Sensing a cunning plot to knock me off, I duly handed it over to my mate (he being pretty decent at the whole banging and hammering malarkey). We needn't have worried - even after we spilt two stella over the power leads and socket - it still failed to kill us!

And so...at 9pm last night - the climbing frame was erected. Man the hunter - man the great builder of things had won again.

The kids ran out to admire the handywork. They raced outside - weary and tired having waited all day for their playground to appear. And what did they say - what did the little four year old monkey tell me?

"But the slide is green. I'd like a blue one!"

Six hours hard labour. Reduced to a blue or a green slide. Typical. Bloody typical.

We head inside. Our jobs done here. We sink wine and eat pizza and wonder if life can get any better. The next day I will feel like I just wrestled a hungry panda for the world's last stick of bamboo. But today - today I feel good and even the wrong coloured slide can't put me off my game...