So there I was, getting along famously with Rob Daley, proud father of Tom, who we were both watching diving in Southend on Saturday, when I turned my attention to the lady sitting next to him.
Now, it's been a while since I last chatted to Tom's Mum and, of course, Rob's wife, Debbie, and a lot has has happened in both our lives over the past two years or so. Well, that's my excuse, anyway.
We got along like the proverbial house on fire waiting for Tom, the 2009 world champion and double Commonwealth Games gold medallist last October, to attempt for the first time in competition his new, "Big Front" dive.
Then I put my size tens in it. I let slip that I thought the lady was Debbie when, in reality, it was Tom's grandmother or, as Rob put it, somewhat incredulously: "That's my Mum you've been talking to for the last ten minutes!"
I pride myself on escaping from holes that I have largely created for myself, which is why I uttered: "What a remarkably young looking Mum you have," which appeared to go down better with Tom's Nan than it did with his Dad, who appeared less than impressed than I thought he was married to a considerably older woman.
Oh well. Such is life. I once congratulated a sportswoman for beingvisibly pregnant when, er, she wasn't.
Now that's when you really pray for a hole to appear in the ground for you to crawl into!
