Dom Joly: Postcard Christmas tests parental sanity

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We live in the very worst place in England when snow comes. Our house lies in a valley and the only way out of the village is by way of three steep hills.

A local farmer very kindly grits said hills but, even so, our family cars were unable to make an escape. We decided to dig in, delve deep within our larder, and live off our reserves.

This lasted for about seven hours until we developed cabin fever. We realised we were going to have to try to make a break for the outside world or the kids would drive us mad.

As my wife is Canadian, she has a certain cold-weather hardiness the rest of the family lacks. We wrapped up as though off on a trip to Antarctica and trudged over the long field behind our house towards TV Wood, where televisions grow on trees.

We'd got about 300m when the kids demanded they be pulled on their sledges. At 500m we demanded they pull us on their sledges. At 600m we turned under the scornful eyes of our cat who had followed along, in that way cats do when they know you are going to fail at something.

"Losers ..." he hissed as we slunk back past him. He then decapitated a robin for effect. That's the thing about cats and dogs - dogs never question you, they just think you're great; cats, on the other hand, just love to point out what a cretin you are.

Back home we decided that the best thing was to get the kids to go and stay with people who lived in a town with a shop - that way we could have some peace and quiet ... and other people could deal with them. At this very moment a friend in the village, who also happens to have one of those 20-year-old Land Rovers that never ever seem to die, knocked on the door.

We gave him a cup of tea and many biscuits, and he eventually took the hint and offered up his Land Rover for an emergency evacuation.

We made it over the hill and were off towards Cirencester and main roads that were supposed to have been snow-ploughed. Then, disaster - a car was careering towards us out of control and I had to either take the impact or yank our car out of the way. I pulled hard at the steering wheel and we went hurtling off the road, and ended up hitting a huge snowdrift.

The kids were excited to have survived their first car crash, but the front of the Land Rover was a mess. I eventually backed out and shamefully headed back to our village. I rang the Land Rover owner to warn him we'd had a prang. "You crack me up, Dom," he said, "but you're not catching me out with your tomfoolery."

He wouldn't believe me, and I wasn't looking forward to showing him the proof.

- Independent