IT is with great pleasure and relief that I am able to announce a final decision has been made on the new kitchen.

More than a year has passed since my wife suddenly thought it would be a good idea to knock down the wall between the old kitchen and the dining room and go for the open plan look. This naturally led to the conclusion that we needed an entirely new kitchen.

As I’ve admitted in previous columns, there have been times when I thought we would never make decisions on the design, colour, and materials. It has become a drama which has gone on longer than The Mousetrap. I’ve spent more time in kitchen showrooms, feigning interest, than I’ve spent at home lately, and it has weighed on me heavily.

The granite versus laminate question has been by far the biggest headache.

My wife initially wanted granite for the worktops but, of course, it is significantly more expensive. In a rare, exhilarating period of wanting to save money, she then sided with laminate for a few months. But just lately she’s been worrying about whether she’d regret going for laminate in years to come, and granite has again become the favoured option.

But she’s really not sure. Granite? Laminate? Granite? Laminate?

I’ve done my best to be constructive while, obviously, trying to nudge her towards the cheaper option.

Laminate looks perfectly good to me but she remained torn between the two and I was rapidly losing the will to live.

Then, a few weeks ago, I surprised even myself with a brainwave, based on the same philosophy I employ when I’m asked to choose between two dresses she likes.

I start off by saying: “I think I like that one.”

She then counters with: “Why – what’s wrong with the other one?”

In the end, we agree that it makes perfect sense for her to have them both.

So why not try the same tack with the granite – slash – laminate conundrum?

“Maybe we could compromise?” I suggested. My ingenious proposal was to go with granite on the “peninsula” – the sticky-out bit between the kitchen and the dining area – and have laminate on the other worktops.

It was the best of both worlds – we’d save money and make the peninsula more of a stand-out feature.

“No, that would just look odd,” she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’ll just have to make a proper decision.”

Noting the clear implication that I’d made an improper suggestion, I decided there was no further point in trying to play my part.

Anyway, at the weekend, we reached the point at which decisions had to be made because contracts needed to be signed.

My wife approached me with a glint in her eye when I got home from work on Friday night and said: “Listen, I’ve had an idea.”

When she starts a conversation with those words, it’s usually a reason to worry so I braced myself.

“What about if we use granite on the peninsula, and laminate on the rest of the worktops?” she said.

For a moment or two, I thought she was joking. Then, I looked in her eyes and realised there was no recollection whatsoever that I’d said the same thing weeks earlier.

I was going to tell her but thought better of it. “Bloody brilliant idea,” I said.

BEING A DAD IS...

HAVING to drive an hour down the A1 at midnight, negotiate a muddy field, wait in the cold and rain until your son and his mates emerge from the gloom of the Leeds Festival, allow your car to be turned into a pigsty as they put their disgusting wellies all over the upholstery, and get home at 2am...

THE THINGS KIDS SAY

I OVERHEARD one bedraggled teenage girl amid the darkness of the Leeds Festival pick-up point shout into her mobile phone: “Don’t you understand, Dad, there are thousands of cars flashing their lights – it’s not just you!”

THE THINGS MUMS SAY

AND I overheard one fed-up mum say into her mobile phone: “Look, Lucy, I’m standing in a field under a floodlight, near two green sheds.

I’m cold, wet and my shoes are full of mud. Get your a*** down here now because I’ve had enough.”

Aah... the joys of parenthood.