There are people in their 30s who don't know anything about the Falklands. It's quite remarkable. What surprises me, though, is that so many children know who I am. It's strange.

Between the ages of three and four I lived in Singapore. My earliest memories are of trotting into my mother and father's bedroom and getting into bed with them to watch the geckos running across the wall. We'd eat boiled sweets in bed as a treat.

I was a happy child, always drawing cartoons and writing poems. My mother told me that when I was a boy I wanted to be a "Canadian Mountie". I also used to say, "I want to drive a rail-whale train."

I cried very recently. My grandson, who is only a few months old, had an emergency operation and it was touch-and-go. I took myself off for a little weep. It scared the living daylights out of me. The NHS were, as they always are in a crisis, absolutely magnificent.

My grandson is beautiful. The nurses on the ward said, "If he doesn't make you broody, nothing will." He's got black hair and the most piercing blue eyes you've ever seen. He's going to break some hearts.

I am a very happy person. I think that's something people may not assume because of what has happened to me.

Laughing isn't just cathartic, it's essential. I love daftness and nonsense, which is perhaps why writing children's books came so naturally to me.

I'd like to play the harmonica. I was very musical when I was younger, and I played the cornet. With my injuries, my top lip isn't much use at all so I daren't pick it up again to try now. But with the harmonica you can make it up as you go along.

I would love to change my injuries and what happened to me. Of course I would. But without them I would never have met my wife who has given me the beautiful family I have. It's a double-edged sword, but life is better than I could ever have hoped.

There are many secrets to a happy, lasting marriage. A big one is keeping yourself in the black – the strain of finances can tear people apart. I'll have been married 22 years soon.

Having distance works wonders for a relationship. My wife loves to go out a lot, and I let her go. As long as she's safe I don't care.

There's only one thing I've done in my life that I am ashamed of. When I was 14 I got into a stolen car. I was taken to court and had to pay a £30 fine. I regret it because I embarrassed by mother.

I always remember kindness. A while ago, a young lad who was begging on the streets gave me a pound when I walked by him. He didn't have two pennies to rub together, but he gave me money. I'll keep that coin for the rest of my life.

Nelson at Sea, the latest of Simon Weston's books for children, is out now (Gomer, £8.99)