This Sunday my husband will have a good lie in, then have a long, leisurely breakfast while listening to The Archers, followed by an equally long shower, and an enjoyable afternoon pottering about in the garden.

So what’s new? For him this routine is tried, tested and rubber-stamped – and that makes Father’s Day rather difficult for the rest of the family. How do we make a cushy day even cushier? And, more to the point, do we want to?

To give him his credit, my husband works all week and deserves a bit of R&R on his days off. I don’t begrudge him it, but because I work part-time virtually all the household tasks – shopping, cleaning, ironing, bill paying, and anything to do with the children – fall to me. This means that on his days off, he has a clear diary and can spend hours in his beloved shower and vegetable plots.

Then Father’s Day arrives and we’re supposed to make efforts to give him an even easier time. I’m wracking my brains for ideas. He hates breakfast in bed – he believes that mixing butter, marmalade, and coffee with sheets, duvets and pillows is nothing short of crazy, and he definitely wouldn’t trust me or the children to make his porridge.

So there’s only one thing for it – we will have to go out and buy lots of tat to honour him on Sunday. We’re spoilt for choice – a baseball cap with built-in beer can and straws, a ‘No 1 Dad’ pair of socks, a ‘Best Dad’ tankard and a million World Cup-themed gifts.

Father’s Day is a pain in the backside – yet another date involving stress and expense. Along with Mother’s Day in March and Grandparents’ Day in September, it is simply something else to feel guilty about. You can do your best to ignore it, but walking past all the cards and gifts in the shops can’t fail to tug at your conscience.

It feels mean-spirited to do nothing. I know that, this week, my children usually insist on buying their dad giant chocolate ‘Champion Dad’ medallions or a ‘Daddy Cool’ mug.

I always thought Father’s Day was a recent creation, thought up by greeting card companies for commercial gain, and was surprised to discover that it dates back to 1910. Maybe the shops of that day were full of ‘No 1 Dad’ braces, cravats and fob watches.

On Sunday I will no doubt bow to pressure and put something in place to pay homage to him. A barbecue might be the best bet. He can indulge his love of cooking while enjoying the garden, and he’d get to wear his new baseball cap.