I would say it has been at least 40 years since I laid eyes on this book. Looking at my copy of Well Really, Mr Twiddle! from when I was a kid, with its missing hardback cover and tattered edges, makes me wonder how I could treat a book so badly. But then again, never was a book so frequently read. Being fairly sheltered as a child meant escaping into the world of books, and Enid Blyton played a huge role in my imagination running wild.

I had a Noddy car as a child and I still crave for someone to invent toffee shocks from The Faraway Tree series – toffee shocks grew bigger and bigger as you chewed them and then exploded into nothing, brilliant! But aside my Noddy, The Faraway Tree and Hardy Boys books was the adventures of Mr Twiddle.

Well Really, Mr Twiddle! arrived in 1953, with 15 short stories about the continuing adventures of the bumbling Twiddle, his long-suffering wife and her darn cat. This poor man could do no right. Day after day, Mr Twiddle would be sent on the simplest of tasks by his wife, only to find various ways of creating disasters for himself, including: taking the dog for a walk to the shops only to lose the dog and come back with a goose, which he locks in the dog kennel; taking another swimmer’s nice suit from under a tree, thinking it was put there especially for him because it matched his new hat; and being asked by Mrs Twiddle to hang the sheet and coat on the clothesline, only to misinterpret that as being sheep and goat, which he manages to find and which both create havoc when they get into the house!

These stories are simply written and have a charming innocence. No matter how much wrong Twiddle does, he always manages to set things right and give his wife a kiss and some flowers. Even now, I can understand why I laughed so much at his bumbling incompetence. These stories are a great bedtime read for young children, and I can see them getting as much joy out of the maligned Mr Twiddle as you will.

Lou Fulco