Isaac is never going to be a professional sportsman but maybe dancing is just the thing for him instead.

We’ve been very much a Strictly household these last few years. It’s one of the few shows that captures all three of our kids’ imaginations. As I’ve said before, Kara is all twirls and flourishes and loves the Latin dances. Toby is all about the fast feet. And Isaac has the fluidity and grace of a classic ballroom dancer.

I have no idea where they get these skills from. They certainly didn’t inherit them from their father, who regular readers may recall routinely describes himself as having the dance moves of an arthritic elephant.

Nonetheless, we had the opportunity to take all three kids to a local dance class for a taster session yesterday. Kara attacked it with her usual vim and vigour. Toby baulked at having to step outside his comfort zone, found the first possible excuse to back out and promptly sulked for an hour with a face like thunder.

Isaac, however, leapt in with both feet, literally and figuratively, and took to the dancefloor like a natural. He was lucky enough to enjoy an hour’s one-to-one tuition, during which he quickly got to grips with the waltz, quickstep, cha-cha-cha, jive and rumba. Pretty impressive for his first attempt at doing anything more than prancing around our living room. In Strictly terms, he looked much more like Aston Merrygold than the Reverend Richard Coles.

So he will never be a Premier League footballer but maybe he will discover a passion for dance instead. Who knows, one day he may be the next Tony Manero from Saturday Night Fever. He should be dancing (yeah).

Pass the sequins and spray tan, please.

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