When your toddler's out of town for a couple of days, it's important to make the most of every precious and fleeting child-free moment. So Lisa and I went to Asda last night. And got some ibuprofen for my foot. And tamsulosin for my prostate. Before picking up some Werther's Originals. We then went to bed early.

Obviously it's not easy to let your hair down when you've lost most of it due to old age, but the good news is that we have one more evening of freedom, so we're going out tonight to live life in the fast lane. That's the fast lane to morbid obesity. We're heading for the nearest Italian restaurant to dance on the grave of Dr Atkins, before getting our five-a-day by vegging out on the sofa in front of The Apprentice.

Needless to say, when most parents are separated from their children, they remind themselves of their absent loved ones by looking at photos of them. Personally I can go one better. I don't just look at photos of Amelie. I look at photos taken by Amelie. She might be two-and-a-half, but like the rest of the world, she only has to get her hands on a cheap digital camera and she thinks she's Mario Testino. Here are just a few of the holiday snaps she took in Wiltshire a fortnight ago...









You might think she was photographing me in that last one. She wasn't. She was trying to get a shot of the 'Taste of Bengal' in Devizes.