THAT great philosopher Hokey Cokey had at least part of the answer to life’s great conundrums, or should that be conundra? Answers on a five pound note.

You put your left leg in, he said.

And then you put your right leg in. And then you take your left leg out and then you take your right leg out.

So far, so good. So far, so profound. But what the aforementioned great philosopher forgot to mention was the timing of the putting in and/or out of the leg.

And as we all know, timing is crucial, especially where your limbs are concerned.

So let me give you a few real-life examples of when the timing of putting the leg in or out was all important. And also at times whether it was best to put in or out the right leg or the left leg.

NB: we may not have time to cover the shaking it all about…

Example one. Here I am at a football match, watching my grandson playing.

The match is end to end and someone runs down the wing and someone makes a vital tackle and the ball trundles towards me and settles at my feet. What am I to do?

Obviously I have to kick the ball back but do I try to do a Luca Connell-style free kick that lands in the back of the net so that people shout ‘sign that white-haired bloke up for the over-65s’.

Or do I do a delicate chip that the under-nine striker can catch?

It’s a dilemma. And, crucially, do I use the left foot or the right foot. Any ideas, Mr Hokey Cokey, given that I’ve never played much football so I’m not sure whether I’m right-legged or left-legged?

I’m left-handed; does that make a difference? There’s a third option, of course: do nothing. Don’t kick the ball with either the right leg or the left leg. Just watch it roll past you.

That won’t go down well with the players or the other grandparents and parents at the match but, hey, that’s life.

Of course these are just tiny decisions compared to the timing of the left/right leg intervention.

Do you wait until the ball has stopped rolling? Do you wait until a stray dog has almost run over to the ball? Do you wait until the opposition defender has just about got the ball and is about to throw it in? Decisions, decisions.

Example two. You are playing Superheroes with your other grandson. He is, of course, Spiderman; you’ve decided, because it’s been on your mind, to be Hokey Cokey Man, who puts his legs

in and out for justice and world peace.

He even has a theme song, the content of which I’m sure you can guess.

After a bout of initial and understandable three-year-old scepticism your grandson agrees that you can be Hokey Cokey Man.

You tell him that when the bad guys approach you will put your left leg in and then put it out. You tell your grandson that you will commence the leg action when you see fit, but as your grandson runs up and down the room wrapping the villains in his webs you find yourself hesitating, even though it’s only a game and there’s even less at stake than there was when you had to return the football to the pitch.

You want to maintain the credibility of the game, for him more than you. You want to get the left leg going at just the right time. But when? When? Let’s leave him pondering and move on to example three.

Example three. The older you get, the more you enjoy getting into the house on a dark and possibly rainy day and putting your slippers on and relaxing and dozing on the settee.

You read somewhere once that the exact length of time between when you come into the house and when you put your slippers on can be beneficial to your health but for the life of you, you can’t remember how long that time is.

You look it up on the internet but you can’t find it. You look in books about time and about slippers but you can’t find it.

Who’d have thought that the timing of putting the leg in and out would be important? It’s all a matter of hokey cokey as far as I can see…