This is a subject that I have read about and yet believed it wouldn't happen to me. How many men have asked themselves the same question? Or women for that matter?

When did I become my Dad?

How many of you out there have asked the same question?

I guess it is a journey we all have to make.

Tonight I had to pick up my daughter from a birthday party. It was held in a nearby village, a W.I hut of all places. Wealthy W.I! Their own hut and a good one at that. It was more than a hut of course. Many villages would be proud to have it as their own village hall. This particular village has one of them too!

My daughter had travelled there with two of her friends. I rang their mum to see if I could return the favour and take them home. She was a bit unsure of the area and gave me vague directions. The village it was in was not big so I figured it wouldn't take me long to find. I assured her that I would just need to stick my head out of the car window and follow the noise of screaming kids. Sure enough when I reached the village that is just how I found the venue. I just listened for the screaming a bunch of adolescent kids and some loud disco music.

When i reached the doors of the WI I was somewhat intimidated by the sight of partying children. It was also dark outside and I was worried that I was looking straight at my child and I just didn't recognise her. I was joined by some other parents arriving to collect their charges. One or two of the luckier Dad's knew some other kids and sent them in to find their kids for them. There was nothing left for it, I had to steel myself and run the gauntlet. I had to enter the place of the WI.

I stepped through the vestibule and pulled aside the curtain across the doorway. The sight filled me with horror. Lots of children grooving their thing to present day chart hits. There was some spot lights and a rotating glitter ball. Sensory overload. I ducked out straight away. I had a new plan.

I would wait in ambush outside the door. She was sure to surface for air at some stage and then I would pounce. I exchanged a few notes on extraction techniques and then she appeared and I POUNCED! She was disappointed that the night was over but said she needed to go and say goodbye to the party girl. She returned to the gloom leaving me with a sense of foreboding that I would never see her again unless I waded in and dragged her out by the handbag. Some minutes later another girl pulled the same stunt on another father and I set him right for next time.

Not long after this a slow song came on. I was relieved and reminisced back to my sixth form days in Portsmouth. The night club was called Nero's and was a testament to all things tacky whilst imitating a scene from a Roman villa. As the night wore on the slow dances would come on and then the pairing would begin, some of the luckier blokes got a ki....

I was through that door like a rat up a drain pipe! The lights were up however and I was not greeted by the sight of my daughter in a embrace with some spotty oick. I was ushered outside by my daughter who was clearly embarrassed to be saying her girly goodbyes in front of her old Dad!

It was as I waited outside that I pondered how much like my Dad I felt I had become. I won't go into all the reason's but it was the dancing that clinched it and the need to escape it that reminded me of my Dad.

Well there you have it. I am forced to admit I am middle aged even though in my psyche I think I am still that optimistic 17 year old with the world beckoning. In fact I have settled into a groove of serenity (fat chance!) and stability. But where was the point that it all changed. When did I become the person I never wanted to be? Not my Dad, I mean the safe middle aged man of my nightmares.

It has been said to me that there are no victims only volunteers. But where was the point I volunteered for this. I am not sure. It is not an irreparable situation but one has to be careful one doesn't put oneself into an embarrassing situation. Like the bald man sporting a ponytail.

So that is my quest this summer. To make myself younger without looking a foolish old git. Watch this space