FAMILY traditions are a wonderful thing. Pass on an heirloom, a name or an interesting facial tic and you are passing on your family history along with it.

Some family traditions, however, should not be passed on. They should be locked in the attic, like old 45s and first wives, never to see the light of day again.

Unfortunately, our family tradition falls into the latter category rather than the former. We don't have a Faberge egg or a priceless, signed first draft of Romeo And Juliet to pass on; we don't have a family name (unless you count 'Whatsisface' - we're all a bit forgetful); and we don't have any facial tics, interesting or otherwise. Instead, we have Trivial Pursuit.

As vices go, I realise an addiction to trivia quiz questions is hardly akin to a £200-a-day crack habit, but it can result in an equal amount of brain damage if taken to extremes over a long period of time.

And we should know, we've been playing Trivial Pursuit for 22 years and there's barely a sane one among us.

There was a time - 22 years ago to be precise - when virtually every family in the country had a Trivial Pursuit box stuffed under their coffee table. Every family had their own name for the plastic wedges you get as rewards. And every family bought at least one box of additional questions on their favourite subject, such as Hollywood Greats or Sporting Heroes.

We were one of these families. We stashed our box under the telephone table; we called the wedges 'chunks of cheese'; and we bought an additional box of general knowledge questions.

After a year or two, virtually every family in the country decided they'd had enough of trivial bits of nonsense and traded in their board for a stack of computer games. We, however, decided to play on. And on, and on.

Almost a quarter of a century later, we're still chasing each other round what is now quite a tatty board, racking our brains to remember what nationality the cook was on Bonanza (Chinese) and what the uncle in the Famous Five books was called (Quentin).

The sad part (as if that wasn't sad enough in itself) is that we haven't even opened our additional box of quiz questions yet - we still feel the old boxes have got a few more years in them.

But that's not the worst of it. Not only have we inflicted our addiction on my other half (he can't even have a cheese sandwich now without breaking out into a cold sweat at the thought of the endless nights of 'Triv' to come), we've also passed on this family tradition to the next generation.

There is nothing the six-year-old likes more now than to strut around the living room, like Anne Robinson cranked up on E-numbers after eating too many bags of Cheesy Wotsits, firing trivia questions at us in staccato blasts.

Even the two-year-old is showing signs of addiction. Whenever we wheel out the box, she starts reeling off her own questions ("What colour is pink?", "How many are four?"), usually while holding a quiz card upside down and pretending to read it, before yelling "Correct!" at the top of her voice.

You see, no one is safe - not even you. Try to stop this trivia question rattling round your brain if you dare...

Who is the oldest player ever to strap on his boots for the World Cup finals?

Updated: 12:25 Monday, August 22, 2005