The Stone Roses at The Empress Ballroom. Oasis at the Hacienda. Pulp at Glastonbury. Tanita Tikaram at the International. Maybe not that last one. Seminal gigs at which I can proudly say 'I was there.' And now look what it's come to. The two most recent additions to that illustrious gig-going CV are separated by more than twelve months, an unthinkable length of time. Not only this, but both additions are for gigs by the Wiggles.

Yes, after last years pilgrimage to York to savour everyone's favourite bunch of slightly-creepy and surely-they're-getting-too-old-for-this Aussie funsters, this year we snagged tickets closer to home in Manchester. Alas, our plans for a relaxed day out were derailed when we realised that England would be playing Germany about half an hour after the Wiggles gig was due to end. Cue a mad dash for the exits the like of which probably hasn't been seen at the Opera House since last time we were there and Russell Brand announced that he would be auditioning for potential mates in the foyer as soon as the show ended. (On that occasion I had to physically restrain Cath and remind her of her marriage vows in forcible terms).

Sadly, we made it home to watch the game, after parting with a fortune to satisfy Olivia's craving for merchandise ('Tenner for a helium balloon? Why, I'll take two!). Naturally the gig was splendid, and unlike last year Olivia sang along and grooved throughout. Will it be three Wiggles gigs in a row? Tune in next year to find out.