Nature's Little Miracle

Miracle? Miracle? Fuck off! So you managed to breed, achieved that mighty feat that seems to have been mastered by almost every living thing on the planet ... ?

And now, this apparently gives you the right to get the best parking spots at the supermarket, the right bring people's busy working day to a standstill when you bring your mewling, puking, stinky bundle of skin into the office and thrust it under their noses.

Oh, and of course, the Highway Code doesn't apply to you any more. Oh, no, your vehicle can meander across multiple lanes of traffic; turn without warning; break at a whim; and why? Because you have a "Baby On Board" sticker in the back window. How about a "Cretin Behind The Wheel" sticker?

And when you're not in your damn cars (and, for the record, you do abso-fucking-lutely not need a 4x4 to buy groceries from cocking bastard Tesco) you've got those motherfucking buggies that you wield like armoured battering rams to get you wherever you want.

Need to cross the road? Wheel the little tank into traffic and watch everyone just screech to a halt. Someone in front of you in the supermarket or the bus? Just keep ramming them in the back of the ankles until they get the message.

Oh ... and once they've learned to walk and escaped the confines of the buggy, oh, that's even better!

Now, the hyperactive little bleeders can career around on their own two legs, shrieking and whooping and generally annoying the fucking bastard daylights out of everyone while you - the bloody parents - gaze fondly on and wheedle at them: "Caaareful, Nathan. Jocasta, don't pull everything out of the nice gentleman's trolley. Oh, look, Timothy, you've wiped snot all down that lady's dress."

And yet, if I should summon a slightly irritable response as your Ritalin-deprived offspring runs past me in the pub, screaming like a diminutive banshee, suddenly I'm on the receiving end of looks that couldn't be more disapproving if I'd stabbed snot-nosed bleeder in the eye with a pastry fork.

We need to let the smokers back into the pubs, at least they kept the bloody children out.