We played the usual game today. It's called 'the Kissing Monster'.

I find Pest n.1 and Pest n.2, who have been duly hiding in the cupboard or the wardrobe. If and when I find one or both, I am allowed to force a kiss onto their red, excited cheeks.

Whenever I am fighting little hands off my mouth with one of them, the other screams and jumps on me from a great height, simultaneously protecting his brother and stopping the Kissing Monster from scoring.

Things have, however, changed.

Today, as I was struggling to subdue Pest n.2, and plant a wet kiss on his cheek, it occurred to me that he was so strong I was about to lose. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get close to his face.

That was BEFORE Pest n.1 threw his eight years and full 27 kilos onto my ribs, squashing my back and knocking my breath out.

'Run, F, run!' he shouted. His little brother wiggled out of my arms, slid from under my body and disappeared into yet another hiding hole.

'It's my turn to be a Kissing Monster,' he said then, threateningly.

And boy, he managed.

Either they are getting too strong, or I should start eating better.