There is nothing more amusing than a new experience in a supermarket. I had been trying to persuade myself all day that I should avoid writing about work today, and thankfully the perfect opportunity presented itself in the form of Dad's birthday celebration and the shopping incident.

I thought I'd get a shop in tonight as the cupboards are still pretty bare and it was getting hard just living off Easter eggs and Nutrigrain bars. Sean let me know we needed some washing up liquid and I didn't think twice as I flung it into the trolley and headed off towards the bakery. A while later I was passing tinned fruit when I felt my leg go from under me. I stopped and look down to see I was slipping in something. After a second inspection I realised there was a fluorescent yellow trail leading from the underside of my cart, right out under me and back up the aisle. I was standing in a pool of my own washing up liquid.

I quickly fished out the offending bottle (upside down and empty) and turned to find that I was standing next to a man in a suit with a mobile phone. It quickly became apparent that this was the manager, and pretty soon after that I realised that the little yellow puddle was not just under my trolley. At the intersection of the aisles I could see at least three large pools of luminous liquid and streaks everywhere. There were swarms of blue-clad staff looking for something. Looking for a moving target. Looking for me.

It was at this point I realised I had been responsible for the Tesco equivalent of Defcom One.

The severity of the situation became apparent when I saw that whatever the man on the phone was saying was being repeated by someone else on the tannoy. They had declared a State of Emergency and the entire section between pasta and UHT milk was now subject to marshal law. I put the empty bottle down and backed away slowly. Inadvertently I had managed to bring Loughborough Tesco's to a standstill at 10pm on a Saturday evening. It's a story they will be telling their grandkids in forty years time. I sheepishly completed my shop, ensuring the cap was screwed on the new bottle of Morning Fresh and slunk away into the night, the only clue to my offence; a yellow-stained trolley and a hint of lemon freshness as I passed.

The other part of today's events actually came before the Tescos thing, but you'll have to cope. Being Father's birthday tomorrow, there was the obligatory family meal. I had decided to suggest the location; the Quorndon Fox, about ten minutes up the road and generally an alright place for good food. Sisters One and Two were present, as was Mother. There were plenty of stories about the cat, Spain and other miscellaneous nuggets of information that I missed out on over the Easter period. All very good and relaxing. Makes a change.