There was a drama at the Dunn household. Eight-year-old Poppy had lost the complete set of recharging leads to her number-one Christmas gift, rendering the $90 toy useless.

What’s worse is that she thought she had put them back in the original box that was part of my load to the dump that very morning.

How proud and motivated was I to be the first car at the Yandina road dump? How pointless of my wife Kym was it to have asked me to go back there some five hours later to scavenge through the piles of everybody else’s garbage now on the spot where I had allegedly dumped it?

But there I was, the great Jamie Dunn, ankle-deep in mud, surrounded by rotting rubbish, gingerly sorting through the stench in a vain attempt to find Poppy’s missing leads.

Thank God Chris the dump bulldozer driver came over to tell me I was wasting my time as it had all just been, as he put it, “pushed”.

I drove home a muddied and beaten man, only to find Poppy standing at our front gate, waving and smiling with the leads in her hand, saying: “Dad, it’s okay, I found them in my room!”

Dam confusing

The Vic Olsen bridge that spans the Mary River at Tuchekoi on the Mary Valley tourist drive is an old single-lane timber construction in constant need of repair.

But can someone please explain why it looks all the world like they’re building a new one?

According to my limited local knowledge, isn’t that very spot going to be under water in a few years if the Traveston dam goes ahead?

Romantic New Year’s Eve

I actually made it to 12 o’clock this year and believe me, for someone who still gets up at 4am even on holidays, that’s some feat.

I wasn’t alone, I was at home with a six pack of Corona, some cyclonic weather, oh, and my wife.

I had bought Kym some wine, which she consumed, some Amarula liqueur (to give you some idea of its potency, it has a charging elephant on the label), which she consumed, and I had also noticed the level had gone down in the white vinegar bottle in the pantry, but she denies touching that.

My mobile phone went crazy with texts being sent from people who have the irritating habit of texting everyone listed in their phone with the same inane impersonal message for all.

Midnight came quickly enough. Kym’s resolution should have been never to drink again but she was unconscious, marinated and snoring.

My New Year resolution was to try to not be so judgmental this year. I actually broke that one within minutes after referring to one of Kym’s well-wishing friends who called from overseas as a regrettable dickhead!

There is no God

If there was a God, surely he wouldn’t have ruined the first week of my holidays with some of the crappiest weather ever seen on the Sunshine Coast.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love each and every one of my five children – sorry, make that six, I always forget that other one – but not enough to be locked in a house with them 24/7 while the Lord, in all his wisdom, causes havoc with wind and rain.

There’s only so much Monopoly one man can take!

The curse of a teenager

Teenagers are nothing but the modern-day equivalent of hunters and gatherers.

They are completely self-interested and irrational.

If you have one and think me too harsh in my criticism – just you wait. There is no greater example of their lack of compassion for their parents and their willingness to test your boundaries and push the envelope than my 18-year-old Joshua’s latest request of me: “Dad, will you drive me to Brisbane for the Kings of Leon concert tonight?”

My answer: “You’ve got your licence, why can’t you drive down?’’

His teenage reply: “Well, I want to have some goon before I go.’’