IIs it hardwired in us as parents to piss off our children? I watched the Brit Awards with my daughter and decided not to make any harsh comments, as I remember as a child finding my parents’ contributions on such excruciating issues. I was only eight when Bohemian Rhapsody came out. Although I found the video a little disconcerting, I was still appalled when my mother said, “What is it like to kill a man?” This is bullshit.

As an avid Led Zeppelin fan in my teens, I was in awe when their concert film The Song Remains the Same was released on video. With only one television in the house, there was no privacy at that time; kids today don’t know how lucky they are. Sure enough, my dad came over, asking what exactly Robert Plant had stuffed into the front of his extremely tight jeans, and why Jimmy Page was playing his electric guitar with a violin bow. Yes, I knew it was all a bit ridiculous, but these men were my idols and I couldn’t stand having my suspension of disbelief dismantled so abruptly.

And there I was, with the opportunity to disrupt the repeat of history, to be better than my own father – so of course I screwed it up. I just couldn’t help it. Here are some things I said: “Why is everyone wearing those big lumpy shoes?”, “What the hell is Mo? [Gilligan] dude everyone?”, “Who the hell is Dave?”, “Adele is having fun these days, isn’t she?”, “It’s all a fix anyway”.

I ended up pissing myself and hers off, so I left the room and went somewhere else to berate myself for being a grumpy old fool. When I returned, the aforementioned Dave was performing with a gospel choir. It was wonderful. I told my daughter, but it was too late to redeem myself. I had passed the generational point of no return.