If you want to stay on the right side of the 'Keep Sunday Special' campaign, whilst simultaneously enjoying the convenience of Sunday trading, then the answer is to go around Asda at 9am, and then head off to church and start praying for forgiveness. That's what Amelie did yesterday.

Back in March, George Osborne announced that Sunday trading laws would be relaxed for eight weeks over the course of our Olympic summer, in a shameless attempt to win popularity and ensure that he would be cheered enthusiastically by the public during the games. As a result, Asda's been open from 9am until 8pm every Sunday. Which is handy, as churches don't get going till eleven.

So Amelie and I did the big weekly shop first thing yesterday morning, then returned home just after 10am, in time to get Amelie into her 'Little House on the Prairie' dress and puritan hairstyle (with Hello Kitty slides), so that she could escort her mother to church. We'd debated which of the two children Lisa should take (she refused my suggestion to take both), and in the end decided that Amelie drinking out of the font might produce less tutting than Lisa getting her breasts out.

They got back two hours later, and I asked Amelie if she'd enjoyed it. She said yes, so I asked her which was her favourite bit. She said "The bit where I came home". I think she's her father's child.

Religion done for another week, I spent the afternoon packing my suitcase for Liverpool, where I'm due at a conference later this week. Amelie did her best to emotionally blackmail me by repeatedly telling me how much she's going to miss me, and insisting that I send her a postcard, while Lisa helpfully asked if I'd packed any condoms.

Whilst in the bedroom, trying to find a pair of trousers that still fits me, Amelie came in and told me that she was decorating my shopping list to make it more pretty. I wasn't worried, as I'd done the shopping that morning, and had finished with the list, so I basically ignored her. She then came back half an hour later and told me she'd finished, and that I now had the prettiest shopping list ever.

It turned out to be my list of things to pack...

It's the prettiest sight ever. Until I turn up in Liverpool with my red shirt, denim jacket and shoulder bag. Thank God I'm taking my camera.