A plastic surgeon in Florida has come out with a picture book for young children called, "My Beautiful Mommy". It helps kids to cope with what happens when mummy gets a tummy tuck, a nose job, breast implants, and becomes unrecognisable.

It's about time this book came along. For years children have been very confused. Mummy used to look tired, fat and old. But then one day, she went away and when she came home she looked perpetually surprised.

Kids are perceptive. When mommy read the part about the Big Bad Wolf huffing and puffing her face didn't move. Also her boobs looked like two parked cars.

Now there's a picture book to explain it all. The plastic surgeon is drawn to resemble a cartoon Superman on steroids. And naturally there's a happy ending. Mummy ends up "even more" beautiful then before and her daughter is delighted.

No child should suffer from having an unattractive mother.

There are a lot of gaps in the story though. If the point is a post-pregnancy makeover, why is she getting her nose done? Also, the cost of major cosmetic surgery is omitted. It should point out: you won't be able to go to college but you will get a mummy with gigantic knockers. Life's a trade off.

I'd like to write a book for kids called, "My Desperate Mummy." It would cover the same subject.

And what about daddy? If there's a book that explains why mummy is getting plastic surgery shouldn't there be a book explaining why daddy is going to prostitutes?

What six year old wouldn't feel reassured knowing that just because daddy isn't having sex with mummy anymore, it doesn't mean he doesn't like sex.

Another thing: what happens if something goes wrong on the operating table? More and more people are dying from routine plastic surgery procedures. It's one thing to explain why mummy can't lift anything after surgery; but kids are bound to wonder what happened when mummy goes into the hospital and never comes home.

Children have a lot of anxiety. I think it's a great idea to have a book to read that explains to them what's going on. Much better than talking to them directly. If I ever had kids I'd probably self-publish a book that would explain me and why I've become unrecognisable. "My Morose Mummy."

In my picture book, the superhero doctor would be a shrink. And the illustrations would look like they'd been done by Edvard Munch - macabre and dark. The ending would have mummy in bed with the doctor explaining that mummy's don't have to be tired to want to sleep all day. Sometimes they've just given up on life. What child wouldn't feel better after that?

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