Trust us mums to do the right thing

I NEED to tell you a story about disciplining someone else’s child. Sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.

Long ago, when I was a young mum with a bouncing baby boy, I became friends with a very nice girl called June.

June was a lovely neighbour. She had a little boy who was a similar age to my son.

He was called Aiden. Well, actually, Aiden Darling, as she only ever referred to him.

And Aiden Darling was a charming baby. Gurgly, smiley and just a joy.

Then, when he reached about age two, something happened. The joy turned into a horrible monster. The devil in disguise.

But in June’s eyes, he was still Aiden Darling. So when he’d find a huge, chunky branch and try to whack my own obviously perfectly-behaved angel with it, her response went something like this:

(Quiet, whispery voice.) “Aiden Darling, don’t do that.” (Beaming smile to Aiden Darling.)

What did I do? Well, of course, I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs: “STOP THAT YOU LITTLE BRAT OR I’LL STOP YOU MYSELF.”

What I actually did was seethed silently, then ranted to my husband about it when I got home. My, it was a joy for him.

No matter how bad it got, the little terror’s mum could never bring herself to discipline him properly. And I didn’t directly intervene. Because he was her child, she knew him best and that was the way it was. If he put my own child in danger, I’d ask her to sort him out and she’d adopt a hurt look – but she did it.

If I didn’t feel I could tell off a friend’s toddler, I certainly don’t think I could rock up to some poor mum or dad in the street or in a cafe and start telling them how to sort out their child.

I did intervene with some badly behaving kids once before, but that was different as the parents weren’t around.

I was walking along the street and spotted a gang of wee boys. Probably about nine or ten.

And they were trying to kick someone’s fence down. I told them off. And they started coming at me, shouting obscenities and insults too rude to repeat. So what did I, the grown-up, do? I ran away. Don’t judge me until you’ve been chased by a gang of nine-year-olds yourself, OK?

Anyway, back to Aiden Darling. Eventually, we just stopped seeing them.

It was often stressful and not an enjoyable experience. Last year, I ran into June. I’d love to tell you that Aiden Darling was now a total delinquent.

Just so all you judgmental tut-tutters could nod your heads and say if only he’d had a firm hand, things would have been so different. It turns out, though, that Aiden Darling became a star pupil at school, is now at university doing something unfathomable like maths and does voluntary work in his spare time.

Who’d have thought it? His mum knew him best all along.