The world is divided into two sorts of people – sensible people; and morons who like doing jigsaw puzzles.

My family, it seems, is full of the latter. Pascalle I can understand, as she has no brain to think of; but I am deeply disappointed in Grandpa and Wayne for falling into the insidious trap of the jigsaw. I expected better from them.

They’re just such a waste of time. I mean, there’s no element of surprise, is there? It’s not like you get to the end of a jigsaw and go “oh my God, so that’s what it looks like!” All you’re doing is copying a picture from a box lid, for Christ’s sake! Where’s the skill in that?

Look, board games I have no problem with. They involve a degree of skill, you can cheat at them and you can drink and smoke drugs while you’re playing them. Our family has, over the years, had some legendary board game nights. We had a game of Risk once that went on for an entire weekend and ended with everyone actually being at war with each other – the mass invasion and trashing of Pascalle’s bedroom was a highlight.

Jethro and I once invented a version of Cluedo where the idea was to go round and murder all the other characters in the most violent way possible. That was a fun way to spend a school night.

We adapted Monopoly so that every time you passed Go you got to punch Van as hard as you liked on his shoulder. Of course, being considerate siblings and parents we made sure he was suitably anaesthetised first, but the bruising was still pretty impressive for weeks after.

Jigsaws, however, are stupid and pointless and are not the key to some great secret about life, as Pascalle would have us all believe. And it is not that I cannot do them, because I could if I wanted to, but I do not have space in my life for such a monumental fucking waste of time right now because I have a little time-bomb ticking inside me and I have a lot of things to arrange before it is too late.

So, if you don’t mind, I’ll give the jigsaw puzzles a miss, in favour of doing something constructive with my life.