Although they are few and far between, there are moments when I feel as though I am becoming a skilled father.

For example, last week I managed to peel a satsuma for Elizabeth with one hand while holding her in the other.

She refused to be put down, while all the time wanting to be fed and I had to act.

For those who may be interested, I punctured a hole in the satsuma skin with my teeth before slowly working the segments out with my left hand.

It certainly impressed me if no-one else. Although the wife did nod her head in appreciation when I told her.

I don’t tend to get the same appreciative head nod when I dress Elizabeth however.

It’s not that I can’t dress her, it’s just that whatever ensemble I seem to choose for the little one, it’s never right.

The most common mistakes appear to be putting her in clothes that “don’t go”, aren’t suited to the weather, and using thick leggings as tights.

If I’m being perfectly honest, I still don’t understand what I’m doing wrong with the last one.

But from my point of view, just actually getting an outfit on the wriggly little tyke is success enough.

I’m supposed to get her in matching attire on top of that? Forget it. I just make sure she’s wearing something blue on the days that Ipswich are playing.

“What has daddy dressed you in today?” and “She can’t wear that with that,” are the wife’s stock lines.

I’ve grown to deal with it, and my standard response normally goes along the lines of explaining that every day isn’t a fashion show.

But recently the wife has demanded more in the fashion department and I have been forced to think about colours, leggings and tights, and whatever else.

It hasn’t been easy, especially with my fashion knowledge basically limited to the no double denim rule.

However, the other day I really feel as though I nailed it. Green cardigan, on top of a purple long sleeved vest, with multi-coloured leggings.

“Well?” I ask the wife. “Just keep peeling the satsumas,” she replies.