Did you read the Daily’s story about the young bloke who stole a couple’s wedding presents?

A laptop containing all of their wedding photos, the wedding cards – presumably because they may have contained money – and several cameras belonging to their wedding guests were taken.

Were you amazed, as I was, to find that the culprit was given a $500 fine? You can get that sort of penalty for speeding, for God’s sake.

What the hell is it with our legal system? Where is the justice in that for the victims?

Where is the lesson to be learned by the perpetrator?

It would be laughable if it were not so pathetic.

And, just to confirm that I am a hypocrite, I did feel a touch of pity for Glenn Wheatley. He had paid back the tax he’d evaded and fully assisted the authorities with their investigation under a deal done with the prosecution – and which would see him avoid a jail term – which, of course, they reneged on.

Perhaps Glenn would have been better off stealing wedding presents.

You can’t take me anywhere

I was, of course, wearing my customary black T-shirt and jeans with a generous mouthful of reheated spaghetti from the night before.

I was sitting with my family watching a DVD of the classic A Fish Called Wanda when all of a sudden I had the uncontrollable urge to sneeze.

I tried to fight it, but to no avail. There came not one, not two but three severe sneeze explosions in a row, leaving myself and everything within a half-metre radius covered in little bits of spag ... EEEWWW!

See bald truth on Extra
This week, Channel 9 asked if I would like to guest host Extra while Jillian is on maternity leave.

Of course my ego got the better of me and I jumped at the chance.

And haven’t I dined out on it, casually bringing it into conversation, with remarks such as, “Oh, I’m hosting Extra next week” and “Well my friends at Channel 9, where I am hosting Extra next week” and so on.

But now the moment has arrived, the glory has subsided and the reality has hit home.

The fact is I’m old, bald and fat, with a pterygium just about covering my right eye.

You see the problem is the television camera doesn’t lie. So, I’ll sort of half see you on Monday on Channel 9 for Extra.

Through children’s eyes

On our way back from the “Dunn Family Trek” to the Dubbo Zoo, we overnighted at a bed and breakfast in Goondiwindi.

It was run by Margaret, a lovely lady about who I’d commented to Kym: “She would be my perfect grandma.”

Kym quickly reminded me that Margaret and I were the same age! Enough said.

When we arrived, Margaret told me she was minding a little seven-year-old boy until 8pm that night. She informed me that he was autistic and thanked me for my patience in advance.

Not that we needed to be patient. He was the same age as Poppy, with a disarming personality.

To avoid any “child problems”, I held a little family meeting with my kids. I

told them as best I could about autism and that they needed to be gentle and caring with their new friend.

They all nodded and off they went to play.

It wasn’t but five minutes later that 10-year-old Jackson, who is a “born on the wind and goes where it takes him” type of kid came running up to me and said: “Dad, he and I are exactly the same. Does that mean I am ARTISTIC too?”

Where’s the love?

Kym and I were in separate cars heading up the highway.

I was some 15 minutes in front of her when I passed the scene of an accident, complete with police, fire and ambulance.

A few minutes later my phone rang. It was a concerned Kym.

She said: “I have just passed an accident and I couldn’t see the vehicle and I just thought I’d call.”

I interrupted her and talked as if I was soothing a child. “We’ll that’s lovely,” I said. “No all’s well, I’m safe.”

My tone must have upset her somewhat, because she snapped back: “You’re missing the point, Jamie, I’m only ringing to see if I need to get that black dress off lay-by.”