So, what did you do over the Easter Holidays? Visit a stately home, a zoo, garden centre or a theme park?

I’m so glad you had a good time. Really glad. No, really.

I spent my Bank Holiday in the garden.

I didn’t intend to, but I’d locked myself out of the house and – as so often happens with a Bank Holiday – it inconveniently fell on a Bank Holiday, so the local locksmiths were closed.

They were probably locked too, because they know about that sort of thing.

I couldn’t have called them out even if they were open, because my mobile phone was on the kitchen table.

Why didn’t I force my front door open?

(Who asked you to interrupt my flow? You’ll have your opportunity to comment after this gets published on Wednesday.)

Since you asked, my front door’s fitted with strong locks, chains and bolts by the local locksmiths. Who know about that sort of thing.

I couldn’t drive to a stately home, zoo, garden centre or theme park because my car keys were next to my mobile phone.

You don’t think the two of them got nervous, wondering if their master had gone away and left them forever?

It doesn’t bear thinking about.

Still, worse things happen at sea. And at the sea-side, as you’ll know if you read about the horrendous traffic jams that visitors to Barry Island got caught up in on Easter Sunday as they tried to leave the resort’s main car park.

Apparently, some people couldn’t get out of the car park for four hours. I bet quite a few regretted buying that second cup of tea or extra glass of fizzy pop before they left.

They were stuck in a car park, surrounded by hundreds of other cars, not having a clue how long they’d be there or when they’d next see their home again.

A similar experience to being in the audience at a Ken Dodd show!

It must have been a nightmare, especially if they had tired babies or small children on board.

I can’t imagine anything worse.

Apart from having that annoying, money-saving expert Martin Lewis in the back, spouting non-stop advice for four hours.

Think about what you could accomplish in those wasted four hours.

You could travel to Brussels and back on the Eurostar. If that’s your idea of a good time.

You could walk from Swansea centre to the Mumbles and back. That’ll keep you fit. Not so much the walking, but the constant dodging from side to side to avoid being run down by a maniac cyclist.

Or you could read the latest James Patterson thriller. There’s bound to be a new one out this week. He’s had 173 books published in the last 12 months. Now there’s a man who’s never wasted four hours in his life.

And I bet he’s never been locked out of his house over a Bank Holiday…