Gary Lineker is one of Britain's national treasures. World class footballer, turned sports presenter, turned household name, turned crisp salesman, he lives in Barnes, London.
And less than an hour ago, he popped into the Starbucks on the high street. Where my wife and my youngest daughter, Alice, popped in for a drink and a lemon muffin.
Alice had her lemon muffin on the table, but was looking out of the window, waiting for my wife to return to the table with drinks.
That's when Gary Lineker and his companion put their bags down on the table, temporarily, as they were rearranging them before leaving.
And in the commotion, Gary ended up picking up Alice's lemon muffin and placing it in one of his bags.
Obviously, this was a mistake. Probably.
But one of the world's greatest footballers has deprived my daughter – who only turned nine this week – of her favourite sweet treat. And she had been a good girl and everything.
This is how she felt.
This is what she was deprived of.
Obviously, my wife bought her another, but the Starbucks worker said that it was free. But the next time Gary Lineker comes in, he'll have to pay for it. And they'll remember, they've written a note and everything.
Naturally, Alice will be accepting all media interviews. At least she knows who Gary Lineker is now.
Gary Lineker has been involved in a number of controversies, including last year defending the rights of child refugees into the UK. All very laudable, but could he have just been playing the long game so he could pilfer their lemon muffins at a later date?