Is Andre really the best dad?

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How easy-peasy must it be to judge Celebrity Dad Of The Year?

The “award”, just lifted by Peter Andre for the second year running, seems well-short on criteria.

Seems all you’ve got to be to qualify as a finalist is be a male celebrity, with a kid.

This year’s runners-up? Jonathan Ross and Elton John. Take my point?

To win it, though, you clearly must need to have gone that extra mile.

Been totally hands-on. Shown the limitless depths of your dedication.... To land yourself in more trashy women’s magazines than anyone else.

These rags, which I swear on my child’s life I only ever flick through when I’m at the hairdresser’s or stood in the check-out queue at Boots, are wall-to-wall Andre, a nice guy, but a total non-entity in the talent stakes.

How he managed to make it to fame the first time around, let alone the second, is beyond most.

He must have got a damned good agent in the divorce settlement, not to mention an incredibly hectic social life and, one presumes, a very amenable baby-sitter.

Therein lies the next award, perhaps - I’m A Celebrity’s Baby-sitter Of The Year.

At least it would go to someone hard-working.