We have all made the mistake of taking our children to the supermarket to do the grocery shopping.

None more so than Kym last week, when she took 10-year-old Jackson, who is hyperactive at the best of times, and moody Max to get the weekly supplies.

Why would a supermarket proudly display medium-sized plastic beach balls within easy reach of my two psychos?

Jackson, who plays rugby and fancies himself as a halfback, grabbed the ball from the shelf, struck a pose as if he were George Gregan and flicked a pass at his brother Max.

Max didn’t catch the ball but instead preferred to lock his arm straight and make a fist.

The ball ricocheted up and over the aisle.

The worst is yet to come. When Jackson went to retrieve the ball, much to his surprise it had landed on a lady with a baby …. Oops.

A silver lining found ...

A couple of weeks ago I lamented that the Little Mexico restaurant at Coolum Beach was being gutted and had been obviously sold.

We didn’t have to wait long to find out what was going to take the place of the greatest seafood burrito north of Yaroomba and south of Peregian. It turns out to be Red Zoo, a quality surf shop.

I’m known to see the positive in everything and I look at it this way – I may have lost a Mexican wrap but I have gained a Billabong thong bikini and some coconut oil.

Tough gig at Suncorp

I was asked to host Shane Webcke’s book launch at Suncorp Stadium.

It’s his new book Icons of Australian Sport. Here was me thinking it would just be a few people turning up to get their book signed but when I got there, you would have thought the American president was about to speak.

There was a bank of microphones all crammed atop a lectern, no less than four television cameras and an audience of hardened sporting journalists.

I must admit to getting a little nervous lump in my throat.

The publicist gave me the nod and nudged me towards the stage. My job was to loosen them up and introduce the mighty Shane Webcke, war horse of Australian Rugby League.

“Good morning everyone” I said in my chirpiest master of ceremonies voice,

“I’m Jamie Dunn,” and I added just a pinch of what I thought was humour, “I used to be someone once.”

The silence was deafening. They all had their arms folded with stern looks on their faces and were unmoved in any way.

You would have thought I had just clubbed a harp seal to death in front of them. I realised I had to draw on all of my experience of dealing with crowds and talking to difficult people.

I gave a half laugh heh … heh … and said: “That’s enough from me, here’s Shane”.

Shopping centre shock

I was at one of our larger shopping centres getting my Medicare cash refund so that I could buy some aftershave.

I know what you are thinking ... he’s had a beard his whole life but is it so wrong for a 58-year-old to want to smell sexy?

On my way back to my car, a young man came out of the tavern and yelled: “You’re a *?#%, mate!”

Luckily for me, I was on the other side of the canal and the bridge separated us. I just waved in agreeance.

“Yes I am,” I said with a smile and walked on.

It didn’t stop there. He started after me, yelling abuse as he went.

It was an interesting situation for me – I didn’t have a clue who this guy was or why he hated me so much.

It takes skill to cop verbal abuse while maintaining your dignity by walking at the same pace. I made it to my car and started the engine.

My tormentor appeared at my driver’s side window.

“I’ve always hated you, you *?#%!, I’ve just always wanted to punch your *?#%! head in.”

His eyes were definitely crazed. I’m not sure whether it was the drink or some sort of substance or indeed both, but I could tell there would be no reasoning with him.

I offered a meek: “Why would you want to do that?”

He replied with: “Go on, get in your car and drive off while you still can!”

I couldn’t see any security guards and my mobile phone battery was flat so there was no 000 call to be had if he had decided to give me a flogging.

I would just had to have whined: “Spare me, I’m a diabetic heart attack victim and, please, not the face!”