Lockdown Dad: We finally snapped and decided it’s time to buy a Nintendo Switch games console

I’ve made a few big discoveries this week. First of all, it turns out that my wife doesn’t like me ogling glamour models. Secondly, we’re on the verge of buying something big. And finally, if there’s one thing guaranteed to take your mind off what’s going on, it’s Israelis and Palestinians fighting each other.
Lockdown Dad: We finally snapped and decided it’s time to buy a Nintendo Switch games console
Joe Wicks and his wife Rosie Jones.
Joe Wicks and his wife Rosie Jones.

I’ve made a few big discoveries this week. First of all, it turns out that my wife doesn’t like me ogling glamour models.

Secondly, we’re on the verge of buying something big.

And finally, if there’s one thing guaranteed to take your mind off what’s going on, it’s Israelis and Palestinians fighting each other.

Rosie Jones: She’s also known as Joe Wick’s wife, if you’re not following his online PE classes, every weekday on YouTube at 9am.

I’m still doing his workout twice a week. I was doing it three times a week until I got a message from my knees saying, you’re 53 years of age you fool. When your knees start calling you a fool, it’s time to change tack.

Anyway, Joe hurt his hand so his wife, Rosie, stepped in to lead the classes for a few days. She was brilliant at it, unassuming and funny. She was also a glamour model in a past life, posing in The Sun.

The viewing figures for the show went up 50%.

It was no joke doing squats, mountain climbers and Spiderman lunges, with my wife popping in and out of the room saying, ‘You’re trying a lot harder today, aren’t you’.

Embarrassingly, I think she was right. I actually did try harder. Which is stupid, because what would Rosie Jones be doing with a 53-year-old with wonky knees.

Retail therapy: I’ve been listening to the Blindboy podcast a fair bit. It’s my cure for boredom and frustration.

His interview with author Kevin Barry is like the first gulpy sip of a cold pint. He was talking about panic buying in another episode, how we’re conditioned by advertising to accumulate things in order get an endorphin rush, even if it’s only toilet paper and beans. That makes sense to me. I’m also going to lose the will to live if I don’t buy something soon.

My wife and I finally snapped last weekend and decided we’ve been denying our kids long enough, it’s time to buy a Nintendo Switch games console. Every other parent who had the same idea is nodding now and saying, good luck with that.

You’ve a better chance of buying a Caribbean Island right now than you do of getting your hands on a Switch. I’m not surprised — a Nintendo Switch is basically a robot child-minder that can’t pass on a virus. If you’re selling one, I’m here for you.

Adults only: I wrote a few weeks back that I’d gone off the telly. I think I just couldn’t immerse myself into the latest must-see, what with all that’s been going on. And then Fauda season three landed on Netflix.

I don’t know if you’ve been watching — it’s a drama about an Israeli commando unit fighting Hamas in Israel and the West Bank. It’s basically Die Hard crossed with Jason Bourne movies.

It’s also an unrelenting look at life in a war zone, which puts the hardships we’re enduring into context. Best of all, it’s proper adult telly. The kids own the TV during the day, but at night, thanks to Fauda, we get to sit down and enjoy something for ourselves. The only problem is we gobbled up season three in a week.

Love is as strong as a silverback gorilla: My seven-year-old disappeared into the bedroom with her ukulele the other night. When she came back, she’d written a song called ‘Our Love is as Strong as a Silverback Gorilla’.

The best thing about this song is it’s about friendship rather than boyfriends — I nearly melted listening to her sing it. The worst thing about this song is I think she might have a talent and we’re going to end up as the expectant family backstage on The Voice.

That isn’t exactly something on my bucket list.

More in this section