CUTTING out alcohol was a momentous decision at the turn of the year. I set out to have a dry January, which continued into a dry February, and a (more or less) dry March is well under way.

This is all part of my voyage towards irresistibility. To celebrate our silver wedding anniversary in June, a Mediterranean cruise is booked and I am determined to be back down to my wedding day weight of 12 and a half stones by the time the love boat sails from Venice.

It’s a case of so far, so good. Since the turn of the year, I’ve dropped from 14st 11lb to 13st 8lb by turning my back on red wine, eating more healthily, and going to the gym. As things stand, I am (apparently) still resistible – but I’m working on it.

My wife, on the other hand, doesn’t have to work so hard at being irresistible (in my eyes at least).

Nevertheless, she joined me in my dry January resolution – and lasted until 4pm on January 1 when she gave in to the temptation of a glass of Prosecco.

This led to an outcry from our children, especially Max, 15, who told his mum in no uncertain terms that she was “pathetic”.

Stung by the condemnation, she carried on with the Prosecco through January, but declared that she would try harder to stick to a dry February.

Max looked her in the eye and told her: “I’m gonna make sure you stick to it this time – and don’t think I don’t know you’ve chosen February only because it’s the shortest month.”

From that moment onwards, it was a case of roles reversed. He became the parent and she became the child. More than that – he turned into the alcohol police to keep her on the straight and narrow. Every time his mum poured herself a tonic water with ice and lemon, he’d smell it for signs of gin. If there was any doubt, it went down the sink, no matter how loud the protestations.

“Sorry, but I’m not taking any chances,” he said.

During one moment of weakness, my wife took me to one side and persuaded me to fetch her a glass of white wine masquerading as apple juice but it was swiftly put to the sniff test and confiscated.

It got so bad, she was even stopped from having any sherry trifle one Sunday lunchtime.

Halfway through the month, we had to attend a dinner and my wife was made to make a solemn pledge to our youngest that not a sip of alcohol would pass her lips.

I have to reveal that the promise was shamelessly broken once she was out of his sight because, in her words, “Social occasions don’t count.”

“Don’t tell Max I’m drinking wine,” she told me. I’ve never said a word – but Dad At Large columns don’t count.

Anyway, other than one or two of those social occasions that didn’t count, I’m proud to say that my wife made it through to the end of February.

On February 28, she insisted on watching television after midnight and was harshly accused of staying up for the sole purpose of having a sneaky glass of wine a minute past the deadline.

As I write this column, it is Mother’s Day and one of the gifts, delivered by our daughter, is a little tin of “gin and tonic, lemongrass scented lip balm”.

The alcohol police won’t be happy.

THE THINGS MUMS SAY...

AT a Women’s Institute meeting in County Durham (the exact location is not to be revealed for reasons which should become clear), I did my usual tonguein- cheek speaking routine.

The theme is that men have it much harder than women and there’s nowhere near enough sympathy in the world for the male sex.

I could see that one particular member of the audience didn’t look especially sympathetic. She didn’t break into a smile at all until I got to the part of my talk about the mum who was telling her little girl, Virginia, about the importance of brushing your teeth.

Virginia replies: “Oh, I do mum – and I brush Sam’s for him”.

This is a bit of a worry because Sam’s a Yorkshire Terrier.

That leads the mum to ask “What do you brush Sam’s teeth with?” and the little girl points to her dad’s toothbrush.

Anyway, the unsympathetic woman in the audience came over to me at the end of the talk to confirm that she really didn’t have any sympathy with men.

She went on to tell me why: “My first husband ran off with another woman and the second one tried to fleece me of everything I had and generally treated me badly.”

“Oh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” I replied, nervously.

“So, do you know what I did? I cleaned out the toilet with his toothbrush and never told him. You can print that if you like.”

I left quite quickly after that.