MY wife has loved Donny Osmond since she was at school - and that's a long time ago. As a hormonal 14-year-old, in her Donny cap and gleaming Osmond Fan Club badge, she saw him in concert in London and was never quite the same again.

A regular subscriber to Osmond World magazine, she knew everything about him: favourite colour, favourite film, favourite television programme, preferred brand of toothpaste, and probably what he had for breakfast.

Not quite 30 years later, as a hormonal mother-of-four, she was off to see him again, this time in Newcastle. Donny Osmond in Geordieland - a case of When The Dreamboat Comes In.

You'd think that four children and three decades would have made her grow up. After all, women are supposed to have a monopoly on maturity and commonsense.

But for weeks in the run-up to the reunion with her true love, all I heard about was Donny. Even George Clooney was starting to be overlooked.

Donny was on all the chat shows and it was on one of them that he revealed the final piece in the "Mister Perfect" jigsaw: He'd rewired his own house.

Well, that was it. Not only does he have a full head of black hair, blindingly-white teeth, a nice voice, silver-tongued charm, and pots of money, but he's a DIY expert too! Hate is not an emotion I'm familiar with but I was finding it increasingly difficult not to take against Mr Osmond.

Anyway, there she was, the woman who wears my ring, getting ready for the concert. She took even longer than normal to get ready - her hair had to be just right and there was just that extra bit of make-up.

Suddenly, just as she was about the leave, a memory from Osmond World magazine flashed into her head: Donny's favourite colour is purple.

"I've got a purple top," she exclaimed, before running back upstairs to swap her orange top and pin her old Osmond Fan Club badge onto a sparkly purple replacement.

Think about this logically. There were 10,000 women at Newcastle Telewest Arena. What did she think? That Donny, in the middle of Puppy Love, would peer up through the lights, point to her and shout "I want that woman who's gone to the trouble of wearing my favourite colour" before throwing his hotel room key in her direction?

When she arrived home just after 11pm, her purple top was accompanied by a dreamy smile which wouldn't go away.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked, nonchalantly.

"Fantastic," she sighed, with a distant look in her eyes.

"Cup of tea?"

"Mmm, he was absolutely gorgeous."

"Have you eaten?"

"I had goosebumps when he came on stage."

"The kids are all asleep."

"He's hardly changed - you'd never think he was over 40."

"Did he like your purple top?"

"Oh, I think so."

It was no good. I was married to a 14-year-old.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

DONNY might have had 10,000 women to entertain in Newcastle but I had to keep nearly 200 happy when the Dad At Large Roadshow was invited to the National Association of Ladies' Circles Northern Area's Luncheon at Scotch Corner Hotel last Saturday.

It was great fun and I'm delighted to say a lot of money was raised for the Butterwick Children's Hospice...

ONE of Sue Powell's duties as immediate past national president was to visit 'Circlers' around the country and stay at the homes of the lady chairmen of each area. While enjoying the hospitality of the chairman in Thurso, Sue was asked by the family's little girl what she'd like for breakfast.

"Toast would be nice," replied Sue, who was then given a choice of jam, marmalade or lemon cheese.

She opted for jam, encouraged by the little girl telling her it was Granny's home-made variety, and carried on chatting to her mother.

When she returned, the little girl was anxious to tell her Mum something but was told not to interrupt the conversation.

Finally, she was allowed to speak: "Mum, when we opened the jam, it had mould on the top but Dad said if we scraped it off, she'd never know."

SUE'S year in office included a visit to Buckingham Palace for an event marking the merger of Imperial Cancer Research with the Cancer Research Campaign.

She was awe-struck at being inside the Palace and, naturally, couldn't help pulling aside the net curtains to have a peek at the garden.

She also couldn't resist popping into the Palace toilet - only to find a group of women busily unravelling loo paper to take home as a souvenir.

You'd never get dads doing something like that.

AFTER lunch, word reached me about Esme, aged three, who is an aspiring artist. While her Mum was having a soak in the bath, Esme marched in and announced that she was doing some drawing.

"Oh, that's nice," said her Mum. "Bring it in and show me."

"I can't," said Esme, "I'm drawing on the wall."

ELLIOT Duffy, aged three at the time, announced: "Mummy, when I grow up, I want to be an angel." Mum Gaynor, a Ladies Circler from Coulby Newham, Middlesbrough, melted with pride.

"And what will you do when you're an angel?" she asked.

"I'll stand in a field with my arms like this."

The boy, who'd recently been through Gateshead on a trip to the MetroCentre with his Mum, was standing to attention with his arms outstretched.

A FEW years later, Elliot was watching tennis on the telly, happily keeping the score but getting a little confused.

"40-30-love," he announced.

"No, it's just 40-30," his Mum corrected him. "Love means nothing."

"It might not mean anything to you but it means everything to me," replied Elliot.

Published: 13/03/2003