It was world cup semi-final day and we’d planned to watch the England-Argentina game at 8pm.

But then the worst possible thing happened. The power went out at 7pm. I have a feeling this was on purpose as my team never wins important games when I am watching. I’m a jinx like that. But I did feel sorry for the people being called out to fix the power and missing out on watching it.

So instead, we sat outside and played a game with the kids where it was cooler. That’s one way to get them off their devices!

By 9pm, there was still no power, so we went to the van. I had a message from brother Paul saying: “Go ENGLAND!”

‘Oh, they’ve scored a goal,’ I said to Mike. ‘Let’s go watch the rest of the game at the pub.’

Mike screwed his nose up. We’d been up the road earlier before the game started and the pub had been heaving with people and loud music playing and it looked like a real party vibe.

‘Come on, it’ll be fun,’ I said. Reluctantly he agreed.

But as soon as we arrived, Argentina scored a goal. 1-1. I felt really bad, and realised it was probably all my fault. But, instead of walking away like I should have done, we stayed to watch, standing on the street with a hundred other people. Except we were the only sober ones. And possibly the security guards.

Then Argentina scored again. I knew at this point I REALLY should have walked away, but I really wanted to see England come back. They didn’t. And I take full responsibility. Sorry.

When we got back to the van, I checked to see if there was an update on the power coming back on. The website said they would attempt to get the power back on by… Friday? I looked at my watch. It was only Wednesday. There was a major underground outage. Oops. Oh well, guess the people working on it were probably happy they missed the game.