Matters came to a head one night last week when I found a Post-it Note on our bathroom wall, stuck there by our nine-year-old daughter telling me that my DIY skills weren't up to snuff. It read: "The light takes ages to come on (6-11 seconds)."

Now in this world that we live in where instant gratification is paramount and nobody is prepared to wait more than five seconds for anything, EVER, I think that one of the charms of our otherwise totally unremarkable 1930s semi-detached house in south Lancaster is the fact you can do your business on our toilet, shave and shower in the time between pulling the cord and the light going on – that's if you don't mind doing it in the dark.

Muhammad Ali, comfortably the greatest sportsman of the 20th century, once said: "I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark." He wouldn't have had to be that quick in my house. In his prime most of his fights didn't last as long as it takes for us to see the light in our bathroom.

I think, in fact I know, that now our kids are growing more and more independent with every day, they need us less and less – until they only talk to you when they want one of life's bare essentials; money, food and somewhere to sleep. And before you know where you are they won't even want that – well apart from the money bit, obviously.

Some banks might be on the bones of their arse after making the mistake of thinking and acting like money does actually grow on trees in their back gardens after all, but the Bank of Mum and Dad is a business that never shuts (not even on Christmas Day) and offers a limitless overdraft facility – or so they reckon. Well I thought it did when I was a kid and what comes around goes around.

Just as an aside, an advert for the latest piece of Hannah Montana merchandise has just been on telly, a magazine that comes complete with some free door signs (big whoop!) and our eldest batted her eyelashes at me and said: "Can you buy it for me please?" And you know what I said to the author of the 'this light takes ages to come on' note? As my heart melted as she expertly and effortlessly wrapped me round her little finger, I found myself saying "Oh, go on then. It's only a couple of quid."

Funnily enough, while we were having this conversation (or was it a transaction?) there was absolutely nothing wrong with her hearing. Now this is the remarkable thing, when I ask our kids to tidy up their Animal Hospital game that's sprawled over three quarters of our living room for the last 10 days, or when I ask them to clean their teeth before bedtime, or when I ask them to put their pyjamas on ready for bed, or when I tell them their dinner is ready that I've spent ages cooking, or when I ask them to go to bed after storytime they suddenly go deaf as a post. Funny that.

To every parent trawling through this weekly stream of anger management therapy, because that's what it feels like, I'd like to ask you a question – and I'd appreciate an honest answer. Is the most irritating thing about bringing up kids the fact that you have to SAY EVERYTHING FOUR TIMES BEFORE THEY DO WHAT YOU TELL THEM? Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

It drives me mad, it really does. Sometimes it feels like my head's going to explode. Is it really too much to ask for everyone to do as I say all the time – at the first time of asking? Er, yes. Apparently it is. Like I've said before, eventually we all turn into our parents and I regret to inform you that I've turned into mine – sad to say that I'm nothing more than a whingeing, nagging irritant to our children and their life of unremitting fun and frolics.

And the fun goes on today when our eldest daughter goes on a sleepover to her mate's house. She's literally been counting down the hours until her friend's mum picks her up (she's even readily agreed to give her Friday night swimming lesson a swerve) to spend the night. Maybe she could do a little calendar on a Post-it Note and stick it next to the one she stuck on the bathroom wall.