THE COLUMN'S been a near-run thing this week, I can tell you. Santa brought Sir some build-and run-your-own-train-set software for Christmas and getting a turn on our PC while he's been running Sir Nigel Gresley, hauling coal trucks inexplicably backwards, has been nigh on impossible.

There ought to be a law demanding that such programs include a pop-up every half hour to say: "Does someone else in your home need this PC?"

There ought to be a law about all sorts of things and 10,000 people felt strongly enough to put their law-making ideas forward for the Today programme's search for a subject for a Private Member's Bill, which MP Stephen Pound will promote in the coming session of Parliament.

The final choice was due to be announced yesterday so I don't know yet if I voted for the winner.

Most proposals were understandable, if not necessarily reasonable or even practical to draft, but the chances of a Private Member's Bill becoming law have a fair bit in common with those of a snowball in the nether kingdom.

Sadly, no MP ever uses a place in the ballot for Private Members' Bills to propose a law to remove any of the many little niggles which really drive us mad 365 days a year (366 this year, of course).

The only way I can see to get anything done about those is to have absolute power of the Red Queen's "off with his head" variety. Now there's a thought!

We've long had a family saying, used in moments of stress: "When I'm dictator ...", and what we'd do ranges from gagging John Humphrys to making Rach, Dave, Sarah, Greg, Joe and Shane - the gang who recently made their pathetic bid for immortality in white paint on a newly-surfaced footpath - scrub the path clean, supervised by their parents.

When I'm dictator, football will not play tip and run with TV schedules.

More people go to church on Sundays, or to visit historic houses and sites each weekend, than go to football matches. Do you switch on to watch Miss Marple and find International Songs of Praise or a riveting crisis in the restoration of Crumblingham Castle has taken its place? Of course not.

Under my rule, care labels in clothes will have to be accurate. After having my best, "dry clean only" trousers dry-cleaned for two years, I decided they were now second best and risked chucking them in the washer's handwash programme. They came to not a bit of harm.

While we're on clothes, sizing will be consistent. I found two little black dresses in the sales, both labelled with my size, both stunning reductions. One restricted my breathing; I could have phoned a friend to join me in the other.

Then there's prices ending in 99p, which fool no-one; huge golf umbrellas used on town pavements ... I could go on but Sir and his brother-in-law are waiting to play with Sir Nigel.

Dictator? Fat chance round here.