WE RECENTLY felt the passing of time quite acutely when we realised that we needed to renew our daughter’s passport.

How could it possibly have been five years since we last went through the rigmarole of having to obtain the document so that she could travel to her mother’s homeland of Northern Ireland in order to meet her grandparents properly for the first time?

I recalled that it had been a rather frantic process. First of all, we had to obtain usable images of our infant, who was a mere few weeks old.

Then we had to cross our fingers and wait for it to arrive in time for us to be able to make the flights we’d – stupidly – already booked. When I noticed that the renewal date was near, and it might affect the possibility of us travelling to Northern Ireland during Easter, I got on the case early.

What I failed to take into account, however, was how hard it would be to get an acceptable new image of our little girl.

Certain of her preferences – her hatred of her hair being tucked behind her ears, for example - definitely made an awkward process even more difficult, especially as she turned five as we were applying, and was therefore subject to the full force of the ultra-tight regulations.

Her photograph needed to depict her looking at the camera, with a neutral expression, with her eyes open and clearly visible and so on.

This might sound straightforward, but try getting a camera-shy child not to smile as you as you’re coaxing them into the exact position (29-34 mm between chin and crown in the resulting picture), all the while moving their thick fringe out of the way.

In the end, there was a meltdown in Jessops, two rejections by the check and send service and a trip to the hairdressers to trim the offending fringe.

It was hellishly stressful and by the time we achieved a usable photo, the signatures on the form were almost a month old.

It turns out that you have to send the form away within one month, so we were nearly in major trouble there, too.

Just as I was losing the will to live and feeling that we would never, ever succeed in getting this darned application posted, the lady in the post office, who was very nice, explained that it might now be rejected because there was a slight bend in the middle of the picture.

“Slight bend” meant that when it was laid down, it was not completely 100% flat to the surface of whatever it was lying on, which very few documents ever are, especially not photographs.

I thought, stuff it, I give up. And away it all went.

What dropped on to the doormat less than two weeks later? The new passport, followed by me, in relief, overcome that the passport picture drama was over – well, for another five years at least.