Election nights on a newspaper are always exciting and chaotic - and I'm reminded of 1997.
With the pressure building in the newsroom, I had to take a call from my eldest son, who was then six.
Christopher had fallen in love with a little girl in his class called Chloe but to say the feelings weren't reciprocated is an understatement.
"Daddy, can you give me some advice?" he asked.
It sounded serious.
"Of course, what's wrong?" I replied.
"Well, I went to the school disco tonight and I asked Chloe to dance with me and she just laughed and walked away - and Mum said you'd know what to do."
The news editor was arguing with the chief sub editor in the background as I agonised over my answer.
I remembered it was always really important to wear the right thing to the school disco so I asked him: "What did you wear son?"
"Daddy, I went really smart. I wore my best waistcoat, my dickie bow tie and my Thunderbirds hat," he replied.
Well, you wouldn't dance with him would you?
I tried to be gentle: "Maybe Chloe's a bit shy," I said. "Maybe she doesn't want to dance with someone wearing a Thunderbirds hat."
There was a pause, then he said: "You might be right there, Dad. I'll wear my Robin Hood hat next time."
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