DIY has never been my strong point. More like DIU - Dad Is Useless. I can't put shelves up, can't follow instructions, can't saw, and can't use a screwdriver.

So when my 12-year-old daughter looked me in the eye on Sunday morning and said: "Dad, will you help make me an African Thumb Piano?", I naturally took a deep breath.

Her class had been told to make an African musical instrument for their homework. She could have just put some dried peas into a jar to make a shaker. That would have been easy - even for me. But, no, she'd come across the African Thumb Piano on the Internet and she wanted to make that. She handed me the instructions and my heart sank:

Materials required: Crosscut saw; glue; hand drill; lolly sticks x4; plywood (six inches wide, eight inches long) x2; scrap blocks x4; wood crossbars, six inches long x3; screwdriver; roundhead screws x2.

Step One: Cut four blocks and glue to each corner of Plywood A. Glue Plywood B on top.

Step two: Glue Cross Bar A and Crossbar B to one end of Plywood B,three-quarters of an inch apart. Screw Crossbar C between them so it sticks up slightly.

Step three: Slide lolly sticks under Crossbar C. Pushed in at varying lengths, they will make different sounds when flicked with thumb.

We had some old bits of wood which would do for the four blocks and the three crossbars, but no plywood which was to be the heart of the instrument.

"You'll need to go to B&Q," said my wife.

B&Q? My idea of hell. It would be full of handy DIYers - blokes who knew what they were doing.

But there are times when a dad's got to do what a dad's got to do. Off we went to B&Q and, after wandering up and down aisle after aisle of tools and things, I ended up being directed to the timber-cutting queue by a sympathetic assistant.

I was sandwiched in between a man carrying a huge piece of wood and another carrying a door. The bloke in front told the timber-cutter in a manly voice that he wanted a piece "eight be three foot" cut out of his wood.

He's probably building a garden shed or doing a loft conversion, I thought to myself, noting the use of the word "be" when he gave his measurements.

When it was my turn, I lowered my voice and said: "I need two pieces of plywood eight be six please."

"Eight be six feet?" asked the timber-cutter, gruffly.

"No, inches," I replied.

"What for?"

"Well, I'm making an African Thumb Piano for my daughter," I explained, sheepishly showing him the instructions.

He gave me a look that made me feel eight be six inches, then let out a deep sigh matched by the fella behind me with the door, before finally saying: "Right."

He picked up a piece of scrap plywood from his waste bin, put it in his impressively large machine, cut out two small pieces, and dismissed me to the checkout.

Back at the house, we set about trying to follow the instructions. I got the saw out and cut the blocks and crossbars to length. I have no idea if it is a crosscut saw but it did the job.

My daughter glued the various bits together but my wife was called upon to drill the holes for the screws.

The end result was possibly one of the most satisfying achievements of my life. The African Thumb Piano made a suitably tribal sound and a broad smile lit up my little girl's face.

She said I was the best dad in the world.

Oh, and I got ten out of ten from the teacher. I felt at least eight be six - feet - tall.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

"IF hens lay eggs, why don't pigs lay sausages?" A little girl's question to her mum, overheard in a caf by Aled Jones, of Bridlington.

THREE years ago, Jenny Bowron, a long-serving florist in Stockton, passed on the beautiful story about how her little boy was taken to the riverside to see a barrage balloon during the war.

The child was more interested in the soldier standing on sentry duty on the bridge.

"Why's that soldier got a spikey thing on the end of his gun?" he asked.

His mother explained that it was a bayonet and it was the soldier's job to challenge anyone who came over the bridge with the words: "Friend or foe?" If it wasn't a friend, he'd get stabbed with the bayonet.

"But what would he do to me?" asked the boy. "I'm foe-and-a-half."

It is a story worthy of being repeated because my spies tell me that the remarkable Jenny celebrated her 100th birthday party at Thornaby Golf Club last week. Happy birthday Jenny.

KYLIE UPDATE

IT is a great pleasure to announce that my beloved life-sized cardboard cut-out of Kylie Minogue, which my wife won't allow in the house, has attracted a fierce bidding contest.

Derek Adamson, the honourable Mayor of Thirsk, made the running with a bold bid of £75 but he was overtaken by bids of £85 and then £100.

Kylie has been bought by a romantic lady called Sue whose full identity will remain secret until next time because it's a surprise Valentine's Day present for her fiance.

Suffice to say Kylie is going to a very good home indeed and the cash is on its way to the Butterwick Children's Hospice.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Published: 10/02/2005