IN the week that psychologists announced the discovery of a new female affliction called shopping bulimia, my wife came home with a couple of great new buys.

In case you missed it in the papers, shopping bulimia is a "disorder, characterised by an addiction to buying and returning expensive items, which is growing fast, especially among women".

This startling revelation came out of a study of shoppers questioned in the department stores of Britain. Quite why we need psychologists and surveys to tell us that, I don't know - men have been aware of it for years.

Another female disorder, which didn't get a mention, is shopping bargainmania - and my wife suffers from them both.

"I've got you a present," she said the other day.

Ooh, great, I thought. A CD or a new golf trolley perhaps. It turned out to be something called "A Boiled Egg Lifter And Sausage Turner". "Retrieve your boiled egg from boiling water with ease. Far superior to using a spoon," it said on the wrapping.

"Thought it would come in useful and it was half-price," she explained.

I regularly make boiled eggs for the kids' breakfast - "You're the world's best egg-boiler," said Max, aged five - and I'm quite partial to a sausage now and then. But a spoon is more than adequate for lifting my eggs and a fork does the job with my sausages. "Thanks," I said.

"Oh, and look, I got this," she added. It was a book. Not just any book. "The Book of Knots - How To Tie 200 Practical Knots."

"Why did you get that?" I asked, not unreasonably.

"Its retail price is £9.99 but it was only £2.50," she replied.

Inside, there are diagrams and information about all kinds of knots: The Reef Knotted Loop, The Triple Figure-of-Eight Loop, The Slippery Half Hitch, The Monkey's Fist, The Ladder Lashing, The Turk's Head (which I thought was just a pub in Darlington) and End Whipping to name a few. The last one sounded promising but I was too flabbergasted to think straight.

I have to concede that Page 308 provided an element of local interest with the Matthew Walker Knot, thought to be the first knot to be named after a person - a mid-18th century master rigger who lived and worked aboard an old hulk moored on the River Wear at Sunderland.

My eye was also drawn to the Multi-Fold Overhand Knot. According to the book, "a cluster of these knots can sometimes be seen adorning the waist ties of nuns and monks, as a reminder that the wearer is bound to his or her vows of poverty, chastity (or celibacy) and obedience".

It struck me that this could equally apply to middle-aged dads but, other than that, I couldn't find anything that was remotely relevant to our lives. When it comes to knots, my only role seems to be constantly unpicking them from shoelaces.

In the back of the book there is an invitation to find out more about The International Guild of Knot Tyers - "an association of people, expert and novice, who share an interest in knots and knotting techniques".

If there is any hint of discount membership, the woman with whom I tied the knot 14 years ago may well apply to join. When I phoned home in the middle of a hard day at work, and asked her what she was doing, she was a little tied up - practising a Slipped Constrictor.

But perhaps I'm being a bit hard on her. Maybe it was money well spent after all.

On Page 84, I came across The Handcuff Knot which is used "to hobble live animals so they do not stray".

Wonder what it's like for stopping wives straying to the shops.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

THE Dad At Large Roadshow crawled across the mist-covered moors for a meeting of the WI in Robin Hood's Bay, and what a lovely bunch they are...

Pat Bulmer, of Fylingthorpe, near Whitby, recalled how she'd gone out for the day with daughter Wendy and son Terry. Wendy was complaining noisily about her sunburn and Terry came up with the solution: "Oh be quiet moaning," he said. "When we get home we can spread some Caroline's Motion on it."

Margaret Pennock, president of Fylingdale's WI, was in a restaurant with her family a few years back. The rest of the family had all chosen what they wanted but Simon, who was just learning to read, was taking his time deciding. Simon had got to the point on the menu where the wine was listed in either carafes or half carafes. "Come on Simon, hurry up," urged his mum. "Oh all right," said Simon. "I'll have half a giraffe."

And then, on a dark and miserable night, it was up to visit another nice bunch - The Ladies Club at St Paul's Methodist Church in Murton, County Durham...

MichaeL Morris, aged two-and-a-half, was in ASDA in Peterlee with his mum when she reached for a bottle of mouthwash. "Why are you getting that?" asked Michael. "You only spit it out."

Georgina Reay was four when she went for a family trip to Whitby.

Before the long journey home, her mum told her to have a wee.

"I don't want one," said Georgina.

But her mum insisted and took her to a public toilet where she had to pay 15 pence for the privilege. Still, the little girl said she didn't want a wee. "Come on Georgina," said her Mum. You'll have to go - I've just paid 15 pence." "Fifteen pence?" said Georgina. "Fifteen pence for a wee? How much is it for a poo?"

And finally...

US dads have it hard - but some have it harder than most. Take poor old Alan Turnbull, of Stillington, near Sedgefield. After four children - Robyn, 14, Jack, ten, Rosie, two-and-a-half, and year-old Jenny - the cold truth dawned on Alan that his only option was the snip. The operation was booked for last May and Alan - a bag of nerves - dutifully went along to the surgery and was given some pre-med tablets to calm him down.

As the main incisions were made under local anaesthetic, Alan fainted. When he came round, he was convinced he'd had general anaesthetic and the ordeal was over. Imagine his dismay when he was told the operation had been abandoned halfway through.

The second attempt went ahead successfully a few days ago - under general anaesthetic.

Alan - us dads salute you!