Twenty years ago, when Simon was a whippersnapper presenter on BBC Radio 1, he received thousands of letters from listeners confessing their darkest secrets and worst misdemeanours, begging for his forgiveness. Every day, Father Mayo read out a confession - and then he'd decide whether to grant forgiveness or not.

Now Confessions is back on BBC Radio 2 Drivetime. Read a Confession below, then Send Simon Your Confession

Dear Father Simon,

I am seeking forgiveness from yourself and the collective for a dastardly deed I carried out many many years ago as a Carpentry and Joinery apprentice.

Having left school I was fortunate enough to be awarded a full apprenticeship with a large national construction company, after several months in the workshop myself and another apprentice, who we'll call Jez, were deemed competent enough to be allowed out into the great big world!

Our first project was on an ancient refurbishment in the South of England. Because the building was listed and mainly constructed of ancient oak beams the site manager tasked with running the project was an elderly expert of many years experience in renovations of this nature, called Derek or affectionately known on site as Old Del.

Old Del was a fit large man who was well weathered, you know the type, big round red bulbous nose, big leathery weather beaten ears probably acquired from years spent out on roofs in freezing and wet conditions.

Even though Del had huge ears they didn't work very well, in fact he was fairly deaf, this was again probably an occupational hazard due to working for years in the proximity of compressor's and jack hammers.

He was however a stickler for detail, quality, and accuracy and if as apprentices our work was not up to the 100% standard he required you would be made to take it apart and do it again. He would walk round the site and hit you on the elbow with a piece of 2 by 1 and shout "elbow in" if your arm wandered from 90 degrees perpendicular to your body.

He was considered hard but fair, a rough diamond who knew his stuff but was gradually ageing, rather like a good wine!

However old Del had a favourite piece of equipment, a red indelible ink pad and two stamps one printed received and one printed rejected.

The received stamp was used on updated drawings sent from the architect and the rejected stamp was used on any of our work that was unacceptable to him. On many occasions you would arrive in the morning and find your efforts on a tusk tenon joint or secret dovetail stamped with REJECTED in bright red indelible ink.

Now I don't know what was used in Del's special ink pad but it was pretty powerful because it would not come off! We even tried to plane out the rejected logo on some occasions but without success… it seemed to stain right through even the densest wood.

Now it came to pass that Jez and I were in Old Del's site office studying construction drawings when we slid a pack of papers back to reveal the famous red ink pad. It was at this point that something overcame us and we suddenly hatched a plan.

I'm sure you remember the old phones on which you could unscrew the hearing end and the mouth piece... well Old Del's office was equipped with one of these devices and an outside bell.

We quickly unscrewed the ear piece and packed the hole with green Rizla papers and screwed it back in place. We then gave the whole ear piece a real good coating with the indelible red ink pad, replaced the receiver on the phone, put the drawings back over the pad and hurriedly left the office.

We waited for some time and the phone just didn't ring so Jez eventually went down to the local telephone box and rung the site, the outside bell rung loudly and I shouted around the site 'Del' Phone!

He appeared from the basement and rushed into the office to get the phone. Observing through the window I could see him struggling to hear the muffled sounds Jez was whispering and he kept changing ears to try and improve the quality of audibility but in the end gave up and slammed down the phone and returned back on site to his duties.

The outcome could not have been better... two bright red ears, we were in tears, and what made it worse was the Bricklayers picked up on this prank and kept telling Del he had another phone call.

Nobody had the nerve to tell him about his ears and we were in fits imagining Del going home on the tube with bright red ears.

Next morning we all awaited the wroth of a wild site manager… however upon his arrival his ears were covered with a head shaped bandage through which you could vaguely see spots of blood.

Apparently Del's wife had attempted to clean the ink off that night with bleach, bicarbonate of soda and Vim and the aid of a scrubbing brush, but to no avail.

So finally after many years I would like to sincerely apologize now to Old Del for the embarrassment of his red ears, to his wife for her efforts in trying to rid him of the legendary red ink and also for the discomfort he must have suffered as a result of her attempts.

I wonder if you and the collective could bring yourselves to forgive me and Jez for a situation that spiralled out of control!

Peter