I went to pick up my children from a half-day play-over at their friend’s house the other day.

All four of them staying over.

While I was there, I went back in time to when I was invited to have a cup of tea and biscuits in the “front room”.

There I was, cheerily making conversation with the lady of the house and her lderly mother. It wasn’t long before I was left alone with Granma and we had scintillating chat about the early days in South Africa and her subsequent migration to Australia.

After a while I broke it up with, “well, I better find my kids”.

She listened and immediately replied: “You might have left them at the front door?”

I should have known then that our wires were crossed, but I didn’t. I actually went to the front door to look for the little buggers.

“They don’t seem to be there,” she continued, “perhaps you left them in the kitchen?”

I know at this point I should have realised we were both talking about different things, but I didn’t. I went straight to the kitchen and said, “no, they’re not here”.

Granma offered: “Well perhaps you left them at the back door?”

Of course, like a total moron I went to the back door and turned to her and said, “no, they’re not here either”.

Looking down, her face lit up and she said: “Oh silly you, they were on your feet the whole time, you never took them off”.

I believe in the power of good

There is a new op shop, Alpha and Omega, that is open at 42 Rene Street, Noosaville.

It’s an extension of the Christian Outreach Centre and they do exceptional work in New Guinea, the Solomons and Vanuatu.

More power to them for inviting me, “Jamie Dunn the non-believer”, to open their new store.

Now, don’t get me wrong; I am a believer in good people doing good things for other people, which is what they do. I’m just a non-believer when it comes to the Almighty.

I must say it was a little off-putting for someone like me to be surrounded by Christians. They’re such happy, committed, enthused and all-round nice people.

I quickly changed into my red lycra unitard, pitch fork and horns and, with three Beelzebubs and a puff of purple smoke I cut the ribbon and disappeared up into the air-conditioning duct.

There's always a catch

The Rainbow Beach Fishing Classic finishes this weekend and a nicer bunch of people you’re unlikely to meet.

A million years ago a lady called Jill Ray and I were on television together as Jill and Agro.

We got back together to do a show at the Rainbow Beach Sports and Rec Club for the kids, except the first three rows were taken up with bearded fisherman, in assorted flannels and beanies, chanting: “We love you Jill”.

The show went over well, even more so because they actually remembered her and, to add to our glory, I accidentally sat on the scale and won the fishing tournament.

Okay, they're spoilt

What I like to do with my children is buy their love.

You know, cut out the middle man and get straight to it.

Jackson, 11, hopped in my car the other day and said, “I saw this fantastic lazer gun at Target, Dad. You load sponge bullets into a cartridge and it fires them across the room.”

Now most dads would say, “you’ll have to wait for your birthday, son”, or “Christmas isn’t too far away”, but not me I said: “Well let’s go and buy it then shall we?”

His eyes lit up. “Do you mean it?” he said.

“Sure I mean it, and while we are there we’ll buy one for eight-year-old Poppy as well so you have someone to hunt!”

Now I know all you do-gooders will be saying you shouldn’t buy your children guns, but come on, be serious. If you don’t they just point their index finger and pretend that their thumb is the trigger and go “kieew! kieew!”

Anyway the night at home was filled with Poppy crouching behind the dinner table and Jackson hiding behind the curtains having one hell of a time.

I think I just gave them a memory.