3pm. My agent calls. “GMTV is doing an item called Nanny State. Soon you will have to have Criminal Records Bureau (CRB) checks to give out sandwiches at the school picnic. Do you want to go on TV and discuss it?” I believe we are sleepwalking into a police state. This will be my chance to stand up for freedom. “Definitely,” I say.

Someone at GMTV e-mails a report by Frank Furedi, who describes a paranoid world. He says men taking their kids to the swimming pool are getting weird looks from the mums. He says his child went next door, then the neighbour popped round. “Incidentally,” she said, “I’ve had a CRB check.” Then she went. (This is like being on a date and saying: “Incidentally, I’m HIV-negative. Glass of wine?”) Furedi says there are 6,000 unfilled vacancies for scout leaders, partly because “volunteers have been transformed in the regulatory imagination into potential child-abusers”. I’m with you, Furedi. I’m going to go on television and big you up.

Next thing I know, it’s absurdly early, I’m in the GMTV green room, I’ve got an orange face and I’m watching Harriet Harman, who is listening calmly to her advisers suggest the line “I’m less concerned about the nanny state, but more with the granny state.” Suddenly, I’m ushered onto the sofa and I’m sitting with Ben and Fiona.

As Ben reads the autocue, only now do I think: “I’m actually not sure what opinion I have on this subject.”

I’ve had a CRB check myself. Beforehand, I was apprehensive. I imagined a policeman would hold up pictures saying: “Do you find this attractive?” “No,” I’d shout. “Got you there,” he’d retort. “This woman is 25.” “Oh, okay. I do find her a bit saucy — but not as much as my wife, who’s 36.” But that didn’t happen. I just signed a form and they checked I don’t have a dodgy history.

Now I think about it, the check wasn’t so bad, and I’d expect any scout leaders to have one done too.

I’m not sure the government is making us paranoid on this one. Harman seemed nice. Maybe we’re nervous because, every time we read about kids in the media, we find they’re obese or violent or being preyed on by paedophiles. We should relax, chat to each other and stop writing paranoid reports.

Ben opens with the story of Furedi’s neighbour. “Yes,” I blurt out, “but why didn’t Furedi just say, ‘Incidentally, I’m Frank’? “ I ramble awhile. Then I go home. Later, I take my kids swimming. I must admit, I do get some weird looks. But I don’t think it’s because people suspect I’m a paedophile who has abducted some children. It’s probably because I’m pretending to be a killer whale.

Dad Rules is published by Fig Tree (£14.99)

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