WITH four children advancing into adulthood, it was bound to happen sooner or later, and the time has come to break the news. After 25 years, the name of this column is going to have to change from Dad At Large to Grandad At Large.

Yes, I know what you’re all thinking: It can’t be true. He’s not ready: he looks far too young. I completely agree with you, but life doesn’t always follow the anticipated path.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it has taken time to get used to the idea. When our first-born Christopher – known to regular readers as The Big Friendly Giant (BFG) – told me that he and his partner Lisa were going to be parents, it came as a shock. It’s fair to say my wife had a similar reaction.

The worries kicked in almost immediately: How will they manage financially? What will they do for childcare? Will the baby be healthy? What kind of world is it going to be born into to? Do I want to be married to a Grannie? Will being a grandad make what’s left of my hair go white more quickly? Will I turn into Clive Dunn?

“I know it’s a tough question but what would you like to be called?” asked the BFG. “Grandad, Grandpa or Pops?” The question came like an arrow to my heart. “None of them,” I replied. “I’M NOT READY!”

Six weeks on, I am coming round to the idea. I think it was seeing the 15-week scan that brought me to my senses. Suddenly, there was this remarkably clear picture of a baby – our little grandchild. And seeing the excitement on the faces of the BFG and Lisa, appreciating how happy they are together, melted any remaining misgivings.

It has taken time to adjust but now I’m genuinely excited too. We are openly discussing names – “How about Peter?” I’ve said, more than once. And I’m already looking forward to revisiting the fun times we had when our own kids were little.

I can’t wait until he or she is old enough to be riding on my shoulders, tugging my right ear to turn right, tugging my left ear to turn left, and tugging them both to go straight on.

I’m already making plans for a trip on the miniature railway to “the magic stream” at Saltburn. That’s where my brothers and I used to catch sixpences and thruppences nearly 50 years ago, not realising that my Uncle Bert was throwing the coins into our fishing nets when we weren’t looking. Our four children also loved the magic stream, and I have every intention that our grandchild will feel the magic too.

Of course, my Santa Claus costume will be dusted off for a whole new era of Christmas Eve visits. I might even get myself a new beard.

The baby’s due on October 10. Do you know what? I think I might be ready to be the Big Friendly Grandad by then…

QUITE a few years ago, I went up to Stanley, in County Durham, to give a talk to a grandads’ group.

“Shall I tell you what the great thing is about being a grandad?” said one of the members. “I can go to the pantomime and shout ‘boo and hiss’ at the baddies. I can roll my trousers up and go splodging in the sea. I can play with train-sets and Lego. If I didn’t have grandkids, they’d lock me up.”

His point was that life turns full circle.

So, I want to know what you think is the best thing about being a grandparent? Write to me at Peter Barron, Grandad At Large, Priestgate, Darlington, County Durham, DL1 1NF. Or email me at peter.barron@nne.co.uk. Or find me on Facebook or Twitter @echopeterbarron

The things they say

DOROTHY Watts, at a meeting of Eastbourne Methodist Homemakers, remembered the time grand-daughter Olivia, aged four or five at the time, had just started at a Catholic school.

“Am I a Catholic?” she asked her dad. “No,” he told her.

“Well, am I a vegetarian?” she replied.