“YOU’RE a terrible liar, Mum,” my daughter said. It was a week night and my daughter had just participated in a musical evening at school, organised to show parents how our children had progressed during the year on their musical instruments, as well as listen to the choir sing. While I’m very pleased that my daughter is playing the piano and enjoys singing in the choir, the thought of sitting through yet another evening of listening to children I don’t know bash away at their instruments waiting to get to my daughter’s one-minute piece was a stretch too far. The final straw was a table full of tea cups. We left. We headed to a nearby pizzeria, planning to return in time to slip in at the back and pretend we had been there all along. Satisfied with our cunning plan, we ordered two large glasses of wine and a garlic-encrusted focaccia, and settled down to discuss family, friends and the world at large. But, the best-laid plans can fall apart, and a second glass of wine made us late, just in time to see the audience trooping out of the theatre, followed by our little musician who knew exactly what we had been up to. Oh well!