Today I invested about 70 pounds sterling in the mighty Lego corporation by taking my daughter to Legoland Windsor.

Being 6, she has yet to acquire the world-weary cyncism with which I regard these places (and the suspicion with which all food that has not been hermetically sealed must be treated.)

And of course, she had a wonderful time. Made more wonderful, I suspect, by the knowledge that the first ride we went on left me soaking (and her dry) for the rest of the day. March days in England, and water-based rides do not make good bedfellows. Every now and again she'd prod me to ensure I was still suffering from all-over dampness and giggle like, er, a little girl.

These are the good times. Tomorrow I have to tell her that I will soon not be living with her mother. That will probably be a bad time.

Song of the day: Shoot The Messenger (Catatonia)