Adults Only

Tags

Amoxil, Blackberry, Calpol, Facebook, Michelin-starred, Neil Oliver, Nemo Me Impune Lacessit, Peppa Pig, The Liverpool Pathway, Twitter, University Challenge

^{That little minx, Tiger, has no respect for boundaries.  She has also messed up my font}

^{size-help! She ought to be on Facebook or Twitter or some cherub forum.  My blog is for}

^{adults only.  I mean, if you go out for a special meal now-say to a Michelin-starred}

^{restaurant where you will be paying shedloads to be seen eating a smear of quince coulis,}

^{no sooner than you have broken open your walnut brioche than, out of}

^{the corner of your gimlet eye, you will perceive a Sherpa-waiter}

^{carrying a Peppa Pig upholstered high chair, making for a table near to}

^{you and your romantic companion.}

^{A legging-ed Mummy will stride out behind the drudge, looking}

^{neither to the left, nor to the right, clutching the enfant terrible’s}

^{entertainment tablet in one hand and guiding the mini-cyclone with}

^{the other.  She will bear an expression that basically could be}

^{translated as Nemo Me Impune Lacessit. ( I think Neil Oliver accurately}

^{identified that motto on Christmas University Challenge, but}

^{surprisingly didn’t know some of the coastal questions.  Ah well, he was}

^{an archaeologist first and foremost.  But I digress..)}

^{Anyway, the maternal facial expression defies socio-cultural challenge and so bang}

^{goes your £200 treat and on goes the music-emitting tablet.  If you are}

^{lucky, she may not breast-feed no 2, which is lurking in the carrycot,}carted in by a rather

sheepish Daddy.

Mind you, it might not be Daddy; it might be Latest Replacement Carrycot

Transporter.  (What has happened?  The font’s okay now!)

You are just adjusting the air nozzle above you on a long-haul flight,

before you give your undivided to the amusing safety video, when the mother

in front of you, not long out of some job in the city which required a

Blackberry and no common sense, reclines her seat with a thump

and, for some reason, omits to give her wailing offspring a drink

during take-off’s maximum ear pressure.  Has she administered

Calpol, or Amoxil- also known as banana medicine, which my kids

drained in bottlefuls?  Brilliant for sore ears, novitiates to

parenthood. But check with your doctor first, naturally.  A lot of the

profession were prone to dose their own kids up for a bit of flight

harmony. Oh yes, they did..

It’s the same with the supermarket shelves of chocolate goodies

placed strategically at pushchair level, right next to the tills.  Distract

the child, I say.  You used to be able to get sugar-free brick-hard

little crescents of Scandinavian bread that would shatter a

pensioner’s crowns but were ideal for gummy toddlers to suck to a

satisfying mush, just as you rounded the final aisle and came in sight

of the tantalising foil-wrapped temptations.  We ensured that the

rusky saviours were probably gluten-free, so we weren’t all child

haters.  At least, not then.  Knick-knack, paddywack, give the sprog a Bonio.

Seriously, though, it’s not the kid’s fault, is it?  He or she would

probably prefer to be cocooned in a cosy cot with a nice little

routine to follow.  Wouldn’t we all?

Rant over before someone puts me on The Liverpool Pathway.  That

reminds me: I need a drink!