There are three certainties in life – death, taxes and that on the first cold snap of the year, your boiler will pack in.

Luckily, we make monthly contributions to the British Gas Board of Directors Christmas Party Fund. In return, they send somebody out to fix our boiler, when it breaks.

I must admit, I was a little disappointed when the gas man turned up. I’ve seen the TV adverts and was expecting this…

This was not what I got. There wasn’t much wrong with the engineer. Your typical manual labourer – middle aged, balding and with an arse crack which kept appearing at the top of his trousers, every time he bent over.

The problem was the bloody penguin he brought with him. It had no coat or backpack, like on the advert. Plus, the poor creature must have been petrified, as it wouldn’t stop screeching. It also shat everywhere.

The gas man stayed in our front room for almost two hours. The boiler fault must have been difficult to fix, or he was just a big Jeff Stelling fan and was dragging the job out, as Claire and I were watching Soccer Ssturday at the time.

The front panel was taken off the boiler, which suggested all was not well. Either that or he just removed the cover for effect. Before leaving to collect a part from his van, he did warn us that there were live wires on display – which is exactly what a gas man wishing to exaggerate the seriousness of a fault would say.

I was actually glad it took him so long. Had he just turned up and told us that we had forgotten to plug the boiler in, or something equally stupid, I’d have felt like a right tit!

Despite having a builder’s bum and a shitting Pingu, the gas man did a great job. Not only did he restore our heating, but he gave us a new toy – a fancy remote control for the boiler. Who needs Red Dead Redemption 2, when you can increase the room temperature from 22 to 24 degrees Celsius, from the comfort of your sofa! Christmas has come early.