THE reality is beginning to dawn. Nearly a quarter of a century after our first was born, along with the Dad At Large column, my wife and I will soon be on our own again.

Our fourth is about to take his A-levels and he's getting offers from universities to study for a performing arts degree, specialising in drumming. By the end of September, he'll be gone.

Having survived the trials and tribulations of having four kids in the house, the big question is whether our marriage will be strong enough to cope when it's just the two of us again.

Will we be bored? Will we have enough to talk about? Will we get on each other's nerves? Will we not be enough for each other?

Well, God works in mysterious ways and, last week, he arranged a dress rehearsal. Max went off for a week in Holland with the college orchestra.

The house has been eerily quiet - no drumming in the spare bedroom, no music thudding away in the kitchen while he cooks late at night. There has been easy access to the bathroom. We've been able to watch our programmes when we've wanted.

At the weekend, we went to the theatre to see a matinee performance of wartime drama Birdsong. Afterwards, we went for a relaxed drink and then a curry. We chatted about all kinds of things, including the potential for down-sizing the house, finishing the mortgage, maybe seeing a bit of the world.

All in all, we got on pretty well and, when we got home, it was peaceful and tidy.

I went upstairs to get changed, sat on the bed and, finally, I could see a light at the end of the tunnel. In front of me was an exciting new era of spending quality time with my wife: doing things together; not having to hurry; smelling the roses.

I heard my wife following me up to the bedroom. She opened the door. I lay back on the bed. And she said: "There's mud on the stairs carpet - it can only be you."

It can only be you. Those five words sent a chill down my spine. Soon all the kids will be gone - and there will be no one else to blame. Oh no!

THE THINGS MUMS DO

THE last Dad At Large column - about how my mum can't help giving health advice - seemed to strike a chord.

One of her pearls of wisdom was that I should keep a bottle of olive oil by my bed and rub some into my knees regularly to hold back arthritis and the like.

Hazel Townsend, on Tyneside, got in touch to say that I shouldn't be too concerned - her mother-in-law sprays her knees with WD40!

THE THINGS KIDS SAY

THANK you to John Anwyll, who emailed to tell me about his grandson Joey's conversation with his heavily pregnant nursery teacher.

The teacher was explaining to Joey that her bump was getting bigger and bigger because the baby inside was growing all the time.

Joey listened intently and then, as he turned away, he replied: "Well, good luck getting that out of your mouth!"

PAUL "Goffy" Gough, over in Hartlepool, emailed to tell me about his grandson Dylan's progress with the guitar.

"How you getting on with your guitar lessons, son? asked Goffy.

"I'm doing Ok, Grandad, I've learned a couple of tunes," replied Dylan.

"That's very good - keep it up and I'll buy you a nice Spanish guitar," said Goffy.

"No, it's OK - I only want to play English music," said Dylan.

AFTER speaking to Newsham and Aislaby WI last week, a member, who asked to remain anonymous, recalled the time she was out for a walk with her five-year-old grandson John.

They happened to pass Grammar School Lane and John asked: "Is that where you learned to be a Grandma?"