Lucky for me our family splits neatly into two teams of two, and even luckier for me, husband elects to go on my side in a recent round of cricket.

Well, strictly speaking, husband didn't exactly chose to have me as team mate, but teenage sons were sticking resolutely together, and who can blame them, so he didn't have much choice.

Anyway, making the best of what he is already perceiving as a weak link in his team, he puts on a smile, albeit a tad restrained one, and puts me in place on the boundary.

When I say boundary, this is a decidedly restricted pitch we are playing on amid gorse in New Forest, but he is coming over all England captain, drawing me in and out with little gestures and serious face on.

He seethes through some 'mis-fielding' as he puts it, and eventually, hands on hat as I allow another 'four' through my legs, says: "I just can't trust you in the outfield."

Outfield?! There is hardly an infield let alone an out one.

I try a spot of bowling which results in some glorious sixes from sons and much head shaking from husband as he walks away disappointed.

He takes over before I have finished the over obviously, coming on all Freddie Flintoff, and is eventually rewarded when he hits the wicket.

Which is a plastic spade topped with a fish-festooned bucket dug out of camper.

It is a serious business though, of course.

Small irritations

An appeal for life's little irritations has got you going.

One reader has combined the recent gripes of this column to complain about the rather enthusiastic air-conditioning at M&S which leaves her very cold and very cross.

And Norman of West Wittering has taken it a step further than mere whinging, with a Grumpy Club and its own website.

This takes a pop at litter, mindless vandalism, politicians, councils and much more, with all the satisfying sounding off for a good cause - the Make-A-Wish Foundation, so it's all good.

Visit www.thegrumpyclub.com, and keep the annoyances coming.