It's come to the point where I am so pathetically grateful for good parenting that I feel as though it deserves a reward. The nadir was on a trans-Tasman flight when three small boys were allowed to run riot and one actually hit Mr Brammers, who had the temerity to be in an aisle seat. One of the crew had the facial expression of 'Must Not Plough Down Infants With Coffee Cart', I was not alone in hoping she would snap.

Behind us sat another woman with three small children, one in arms. Her little boy could be heard to say 'I'm not like that, am I, Mummy?' Mr B turned around and said 'No, you're not. You're a credit to your family.' Kidlet and mum were both chuffed.