Rob Andrew, Hornsea Local's columnist with his quirky take on town life

What a lousy task our cookery teacher must have had, being forced to teach a gang of domestically challenged 14-year-old boys to learn what at the time seemed as unnatural to us as dressing as ballerinas and pirouetting in front of our mates.

My mate Steve Touse and myself steadfastly refused to cook anything but lasagne and curry despite Miss Pinchbeck's impassioned pleas to please try something different.

We did compromise – I cooked Indian, he went Italian and vice versa.

She eventually gave up on two boys who were really only in the class to avoid doing woodwork.

I still can't cook lasagne to save my life and Steve became a joiner, work that out if you can.

Anyway, we'll wind forward 25 years or so to the day another unfortunate teacher took on the slightly different task, though it turns out in many ways to be very similar.

My daughter Deborah's turn arrives to be taught how to feed any future family she may have. One particular lesson lives with me forever.

Preparing desserts that can be frozen ready for a dinner party, I don't know how it went at school, but I do recall the mischievous grin on her face when she arrived home bearing gifts in much the same way as our cat must have felt when presenting us with a much tortured mouse.

With little wonder, it turns out our first delights are to be muffins, which go straight round to Mother's to be used as cricket balls for the dog to chase.

Then the treacle sponge which had to be jettisoned with the container as it had become inseparable from the non-stick dish. We put it on to the bird table but even our visiting starlings had to admit defeat.

Our final treat, the shortbread, arrived in a similar form to muesli, so we added milk and used it for cereals the next day. No wonder the Dickens characters had an aversion to gruel!

Anyway we'll now fast forward to today when Debbie is getting on very well in life thank you very much and has managed to conquer her schoolday failings in the classroom, so much so that on her days off she is known to spend the day with us, preparing the tea.

So it turns out as ever in life that things turn full circle – whatever Dad does, the kids invariable follow on.

At least the thought of Deb as a ballerina is a lot more appealing then Dad's past appearance performing as Spice Girl Geri in front of mates and several hundred others at various locations with the Nice'n'Spiceys, Hornsea's very own tribute to the Spice Girls.

Honest Guv!