I wonder how many men want to be reminded of their offspring running about in the garden, arguing and screaming, noses running and dirty feet; wife still in her dressing gown and glasses. The horror of everyday life enhanced by Father's Day! In my 'single' days I met plenty of men who would be flirting with me, but flinch at merely being reminded of their civic status as married folk.

What's sexy about shouting at the children because they make spelling mistakes on their "Father's Day" cards? And is that conducive of a positive attitude towards the man himself? By the way, it was I who did the shouting, not the father. I woke up this morning with a languid stir in my groins and my thoughts did not, my friends, fly to the tired one curled up next to me. Nossir.

The trouble with naughtiness is that it is so easy to accomplish, giving one so much fun for so little action: I wondered about my neighbour, the one at the bottom of the hill. I know he has grown-up children who will probably not bother with a card, having children of their own to worry about (possibly with wife-still-in-dressing-gown too).

My neighbour is a lot older than me. That's already, in the eyes of a potential adulterer, a precious source of excitement, as I hold the power. Playing with men who would not dream of considering me material for the dreaming itself is a glorious way to boost one's self-esteem. I can see in their eyes the glimpse of surprise, as the dawn of understanding rises.

Do you think that my neighbour would want me to remind him that he's got two children with mortgages and worries about school fees? Or would it be best to assume that a brief moment of escapism might make his day brighter? And mine?

The skill required consists in transforming small insignificant exchanges into something he may be thinking of later, when his wife is nagging him for forgetting to buy bread at Waitrose.

The temptation to praise him for setting those mole traps as if it were the most manly thing in the world is strong. Before you judge me as a soul-less flirt, ready to drop her lacy pants on the lawn, though, consider this: I have the power to make this man feel better about himself, and he - by sheer reflection - has the power to make me feel beautiful and desirable again. A fair trade, I would say. It may even make Father's Day more bearable.