Once that was done there was the matter of a sun hat, which she refused point blank to wear, declaring sun hats were not there to keep the sun off and shouting: "I should know about these things better than you, mummy," as she ran off into the distance.

I went in search of a seat but no sooner had I sat down than I was called to the climbing frame where my daughter was frozen in fear at the sight of "the biggest bumble bee in the entire world". It turned out to be a bluebottle, but by that time I had lost my seat to two lucky mothers eating ice cream.

The next emergency came when my daughter wanted to cross the small rope bridge but was too scared to take the first step.

A queue of little girls was forming behind her, while two boys ignored the line completely and barged straight past, almost sending her flying in the process. I ran over to rescue her just in time to see a two-year-old girl telling my daughter; "Don't worry, I'll show you how to do it – just follow me."

The fact that the little girl was about a foot shorter than her did not do anything for my daughter's confidence and she begged me to lift her off the scary bridge so she could sit in the safer-looking sandpit.

When she was busy with the bucket and spade, I once again looked for somewhere to sit, but it was short-lived.

As I looked on in complete astonishment, a little boy came up to my daughter, grabbed not one but three huge handfuls of sand and poured them all over her head, before then throwing another load all over her face and body

For some reason my daughter did not bother to complain, and by the time I had arrived on the scene the sand had stuck fast to the factor 50 and she looked like an elaborate sand sculpture.

By that time we admitted defeat and me and my little sandgirl headed home for a bath.

As we drove along she took her shoes and socks off and proceeded to dump a ton of sand into my car.

"That's better," she said. "Your car is full of sand now mummy, but don't worry. At least my feet are nice and clean."