JAMIE Oliver has been back in the news again – and, of course, he has yet another cookbook to promote, this time entitled Jamie’s Great Britain.

This man really has his finger on the populist pulse and will no doubt flog another million copies as we all desperately flail to find Christmas presents for problematic relatives.

But this time, what has caught the media’s attention more is his latest comments about his wife Jools, and her inability to understand why he cannot take more time off. Presently, he’s home for seven weeks a year and is there at weekends, too.

Speaking to The Sunday Times’ Matt Rudd in last week’s Style magazine, a father with a young family of the same age, Jamie once again discussed his marriage at length, adding to past revelations: “She just wanted to be a mother and that was it. I didn't understand at all. Why would you want to be a mother? We all want to have jobs and careers, don't we?”

As a normal working mum, I found it all pretty irritating to read, including his description of how “exhausted” poor Jools is, and how she needs a holiday.

Apologies, Jools, but I find it really hard to sympathise with the wife of a multi-millionaire who has family support in the form of her mum and who made no secret of her desire to have a big brood of kids – see also her baby book, Minus Nine to One.

More help is available – and she can afford it. So Jamie whipped her off to Spain for some time alone. In my dreams…

The husband and I – who are often short of a bob or two – tried to escape for a night when my mother was here, and we were able to pretend we were back in the prebaby days.

We were brought down to earth, though, when we then discovered that you nearly need to remortgage your house to attend the cinema on a normal evening. Not only is it around the £10 mark for each adult ticket, but the cost of the snacks which they’re serving has gone through the roof.

One of the local movie houses was offering a ‘deal’ of two drinks plus a large popcorn for another £10.

Ten pounds for two cardboard cups of carbonated water plus flavouring – for me, it’s not even the real deal, lemonade-wise – and a bucket of popped corn! No folks, that’s not a ‘deal’.

Thirty pounds to go and see something that you are not even sure is going to be worth it is too big a risk for two penny-pinching parents to take, I am afraid.

Who needs to find a babysitter when you can’t afford to leave the house?