Dear Dom, Being a contrary kind of guy, I refused to join the feeding frenzy over your 250-mile Thelma and Louise road trip from London to County Durham on the basis you put your family first, as I would have done.
Thankfully, when I argued that case on BBC Radio Scotland earlier this week I added the caveat: “If we are being told the truth.”
Then came your bad-idea press conference followed by a Q&A during which you self-destructed as you revealed your reason for your later outing to a beauty spot 30 miles from the home of your parents where you were holed up.
That drive was carried out to test that your eyesight, potentially impaired by Covid-19 symptoms, would have been given the thumbs-up by Specsavers for the return journey to London.
Why was it at that point I felt your “protect my family” story started to unravel?
Was that a Pinocchio-like nose heading towards the camera lens?
Couldn’t you have driven down to the end of the road of your dad’s farm to determine how unlikely you were to plough into an articulated lorry on the A1 en route for the capital?
Has your life in Downing Street cut you off from the real world where people like me cannot venture to beloved beauty spots like Maud and Mintlaw, Clatt and Kemnay or even sit in an A90 layby with a flask of tea and Spam sandwiches?
We can’t even get a haircut – not that you could understand that.
Your stuttering, stammering press conference was a mistake on your part because it shone a light on what was a flimsy argument for your decision to head north. It also showed us a close-up of the man tasked with advising our prime minister on leading the nation.
And when it was over we all thought: “If he’s the power behind the throne, it’s time to throw in the towel.”