The excoriating acerbity with which one parent will verbally rake another’s offspring can be awesome. My cousin describes any children slightly messier than her own as “feral”, and any children neater than hers as “OCD”. I’ve lost count of how often a mother has wondered whether another is “on the autistic spectrum”, or, if she is feeling generous, “slightly Asperger’s”.

These are just minor skirmishes, though, because I am sure no parent really hates other children. At least I thought that until we went away with two old friends who had not seen each other since sprogging. It was a delightful opportunity for infant introductions.

Except that as soon as the older child, whom we’ll call Mister (2.6), was introduced to Walter (2.2), he stole Walter’s toy, then pushed him over and, when he staggered back on his feet, pushed him over again. The adults pretended not to notice, which is when Mister started to emit his noise, a distinctive, high-pitched mewling sound that he made every two minutes until he went to bed, whereupon Walter’s mother hissed delightedly: “What is wrong with that mewling little s***?” I suggested that perhaps he was tired. “No, he’s evil!” she replied.

The next day everyone went out together for the day, all of it accompanied by a monotonous, regular beeping noise like a lorry reversing down a long road. Mr W, who had a hangover, became anxious and irrational (“Can’t they leave him in the car?”). Eventually, Walter’s father said to his wife: “We need to go or I’ll do something I regret.” It transpired that in the garden Walter had begun offering toys to Mister but Mister had pushed him over anyway. Walter’s father was very angry, but also triumphant: “Walt was actually offering him toys and he still pushed him over! What is wrong with him? I’m going to say something. I mean, why don’t they discipline him?”

Plans for a reunion were never mooted.

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