A few years ago, I was faced with a seemingly insoluble problem. It came about like this.
One night I was going to my bedroom after showering and changing into my night things, and I had to pass by my son's room. His door was open a little way, and as I passed I thought I heard sobbing.
Now, my son Hugh is not really the sort to cry easily. At the time, he was eighteen, six feet two inches tall, quite well built and nicely endowed wi...