If you’ve ever spent any time with me, you’ll know that I’m pretty hopeless at anything DIY, toolsy or hardware.

I really don’t know much about “fixing stuff” but as man of the household, I guess it’s my job.

And that’s why I nearly battered a children’s toy into oblivion last weekend…

Everyone was going fine. Jess was having a well-deserved lie-in while Sophie was up, happy and fed so I put her in her really cool car which she is using to train her legs before walking.

It has a horn, indicators and flashing lights and sounds. Bugati Veyron it ain’t but she seems to like it.

It looks a lot like this, only far less pink and with our baby not someone else's in it!

It looks a lot like this, only far less pink and with our baby not someone else’s in it!

There she was bouncing round our downstairs, strains of London’s Burning belting out. It was a lovely happy scene.

But then the London’s Burning/Twinkle Twinkle/children’s medley wouldn’t stop.

That’s clever, I thought. She’s figured out how to press the button to play the music.

No. She hadn’t.

The button was stuck pressed down and, faced with the horrors of fairground music on repeat she did what any sane human would do in such a situation.

She started to cry – very loudly.

I extracted her from the car, gave her a cuddle and then plonked her on the floor while I tried to deal with the maniacal contraption.

Approach 1: Finger prising the button. It didn’t make it unstuck.

Approach 2: Try to lever it back up with a screwdriver. If anything, I only made the toy louder and angrier.

By this time, I could feel my blood pressure beginning to rise and my face flushing with frustration. Why wasn’t there an obvious switch?

Approach 3: Turn the toy over and unscrew every single screw on there. All that succeeded in doing was turn the toy from a car to a boat. And still no luck.

Approach 4: Attack the orange box which contained the button. There were three tiny holes for potential leverage?

By now, the “cute” music had been playing for almost an hour and I had almost gone insane. As for Sophie, even she’d tried to make a run for it.

With a lot of cajoling, muffled cursing and no little luck, I managed to get the orange part of the toy off to reveal an On/Off switch! Finally! I l flipped it down and sank onto the sofa in blessed relief, the chaos of my efforts scattered around me.

It wasn’t until my wife came down that we attempted to redress the situation (another hour of tidying). It’s not even our toy but one kindly lent to us.

No matter, we fixed it and Sophie can drive freely once more – able to choose whether she puts on the stereo or not.

Eventually, Me 1 Toy 0.

Take that DIY!