THERE were a few intriguing messages on my answerphone last week, from Kim at Channel 4. She wanted help with a documentary she was working on, but didn't give any further details. When we finally spoke, I realised why she had been so vague. The programme was Channel 4's Wife Swap and the "help" Kim wanted involved me appearing on it.

Now, as I told Kim, I think this particular reality TV programme is brilliant. I never miss an episode. But I am not so stupid that I would expose myself to such scrutiny and, let's face it, ridicule, on national television.

For those who haven't seen the programme, two wives swap families for two weeks, living for the first seven days by their new family's rules and introducing their own routines in the second week. This makes for entertaining trash TV. But it is also a fascinating social experiment that works on many other levels. Witnessing how other families juggle the demands of work, childcare and chores encourages us all to question why we live the way we do.

Examining the details of what other people eat and drink, where they socialise or how they discipline their children is often unexpectedly revealing. And when an outsider comes in with a fresh, critical eye and tries to do things differently, sparks tend to fly.

Most people change their behaviour, at least a little, as a result of the programme. Some realise they have been eating all the wrong foods, not doing enough exercise or over-indulging their children. But for others the change is more dramatic. Like the smug, rich couple who thought their life was perfect until the wife moved in with another family and realised it wasn't normal for the husband to ignore his children and sit in front of his PlayStation on his own all evening.

Living with a man who earned little money but did a lot at home, she realised what her children had been missing out on. Meanwhile, the "other wife" dragged her husband away from the PlayStation to take his son to his karate lessons. He was moved to tears as his boy proudly pointed him out to his friends: "That's my dad."

Kim was sweet and persuasive. She explained Wife Swap was having problems finding large families. So she did an Internet search and came up with some articles I had written for The Northern Echo about having five boys.

"We're looking for a big, happy loving family," she said. What she really meant was she wanted a household just like ours - a chaotic nightmare where there is always at least one boy trying to murder or inflict serious injury on another, while I spend much of my time tearing my hair out and screeching like a harpy. It would make good television.

I bravely resisted all Kim's pleas. But I did promise to ask some other mums if they would be interested. One friend, a mother of four with triplets, was adamant: "No way. I would end up with some useless oik." The next, a mother of four boys, also refused: "Nobody else could stand my husband."

But the person who looked most horrified was the mother-of-five from the next village who, unbeknown to me, was one of the few people in the country who had never even heard of the programme.

"It's a bit of an unusual request," I said. "But I just wondered if you'd be interested in taking part in Wife Swap..." After spluttering that she was in a bit of a hurry, she rushed off down the street.

I raced after her to explain it was a TV programme. She appeared to understand, I think. I hope Kim has better luck. Because I'm so looking forward to the new series.