I do love my wife and daughter, and the fact that they put up with a geek child-man whose idea of paradise is a blank sketchbook and a scribbly pen or pencil, a couple of decent sci-fi flicks and perhaps a smorgasbord of Sushi.

Wherefore art though Geek Dad in the imagined gift lists that most supermarkets and retail outlets were advertising a week ago though?

The Waitrose Magazine - that paragon of idyllic lifestyle-and-grub guidance that seems to exist on an entirely parallel plane inhabited only by beautiful people with perfect lives - suggested that Dad isn't that difficult to buy for. All dads love sport, all dads are relentless alcoholics, all dads love barbecues and all dads cannot get enough socks (it even said so on the front of the very magazine I took issue with). So that's OK then.

My fathers day presents were the best. My wife pre-emptively warned me that she wanted to book an 'event' and normally the very sound of anything like that would have me screaming and running towards the nearest tree. But in this case I'm willing to put up with a sushi-making course with Charlotte in tow watching (and scoffing) the things I make.

Charlotte produced the goods. The things I crave the most. A hug, a kiss, a hand-drawn card with a worryingly accurate portrait of me dressed in a Cthulhu T Shirt, wearing a pair of shorts covered in sewn-on badges, and with that vague / slightly daft smile I often wear. Oh and a lollystick coaster (if you don't know what a lollystick coaster is, I genuinely pity you. Every man should have one).

I'm well aware that I'm un-marketable-to, being a vegetarian teetotal non-sport-loving geek but I did giggle at the sheer lack of imagination Waitrose showed with their gift suggestion list. So what did you other dads get?

This jolly colourful and fun book popped itself into our library stack this week but as the old adage goes...never judge a book by its cover.

We've previously loved Pants and More Pants by Giles Andreae and Nick Sharratt to bits (and they're still both regular bed-time reads), so it seemed like Socks was going to be a dead cert for an instant 5 out of 5 but...hmm, I don't know what to say really, it's disappointing in a way that's hard to explain. Perhaps the bar has been set too high by those books and that's why Socks is a bit of a dud.

Sharratt's illustrations are as good as ever, but the book just seems to meander along making pretty awful sock-based puns before dribbling away to nothing. Charlotte is a tough critic, even tougher than me and in our weekly review schedule she's always the one who passes final judgement on a book (four years old and a tyrannical critic! Be afraid, be very afraid!) If it's her kind of thing, it will be demanded and read and re-read until I can barely stand to open the cover again. If it's not, and if it just doesn't float her boat, it gets put to the bottom of the pile and passed over in favour of the others.

Sadly, this is the case with Socks. It's very rare to see a mis-hit involving Sharratt but this is one pongy odd sock at the bottom of the wash pile alas.

Charlotte's best bit: A tiny glimmer of a smile at the sock-submarine

Daddy's favourite bit: Bright vibrant colourful illustrations that can't lift a book that has no flow or rhythm at all, sadly.

Rating: 1 out of 5 stars. Owch.