It's actually quite nice to write about a competent celebrity parent for a change. Much as we love discussing Katie Price, Kerry Katona, Charlie Sheen and the rest of their ilk, we can't help but feel there has to be a slightly more pleasant flipside, a utopia where the mummy celebrity and the daddy celebrity sit down on a friday night with their (possibly spoiled) children and do those fun things that families do.

Don't get us wrong, we love writing about how some egregious (no names, of course) managed to get so drunk and high they attempted to sell their newborn baby on Ebay, but not all the time. All right, all the time.

Anyway, today's story to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside (from happiness rather than Scotch, you jaded ratbags) is about King Colin Firth, recent Oscar winner and seemingly all-round nice guy, good dad and sexual pioneer. Last bit's kind of an assumption, we'll admit.

So, as was overheard at a Sod Cancer charity quiz by one of our higher-rolling moles, it seems that as soon as Colin got home with his Oscar statuette, he let his kids take it into school, where not only was it fondled by other children, but also by the staff and parents. Colin, you dirty dog. 

Isn't that nice? Come on, warm your cold hearts at his fire of love. Or make up your own much less sexual metaphor. Either way, don't pretend you don't like stories like this even a little bit...