Please, Wimbledon doesn’t need your toddler took me to see Hamlet aged three,” said no one, ever. Museums and galleries offer brilliant workshops and specific shows for children. So do orchestras. That’s great. But if there is a recognition that little b

It’s vital for parents to understand that some areas of public life must remain adult-only

It started with a whimper. Then came a gurgle, followed by a highpitched wail as 15,000 pairs of accusing eyes searched the crowd for the source of the disturbance. On court, Roger Federer smacked his serve into the net. Welcome to Wimbledon 2016, where the prime irritant this year is not the braying corporate guest but the screaming babe-in-arms.

The All England Lawn Tennis Club’s rules on children are usually watertight. No under-fives on the show courts. Older kids must have a full-price ticket. Under-16s should be accompanied by an adult. So imagine my surprise when, last week, I found myself sitting close to a man holding his infant son on Centre Court. After a handful of games, during which the small boy distracted almost everyone, his father carted him off.

I was reminded of the incident the following day, when I saw a photograph of Kim Murray wheeling her four-month-old daughter through the grounds, on the way to watch husband Andy. Officials, we were told, had turned a blind eye to the buggy. A Wimbledon spokesperson insisted the rules around children are strict – but it certainly didn’t look that way to me.

Baby Sophia was, at least, being deposited in the SW19 crèche, which comes fully stocked with nappies, milk, mini tennis sets and nannies. But Murray has already said how keen he is to have his daughter watch him win titles. How long can it be before we see her gurgling court-side?

Well, sorry, but I’m calling for a sharp shot of common sense. It may not be a popular view – and, as a feminist with no children, I’ll likely be dealt a swift backhand – but babies need to be banned from Wimbledon. Full stop. Watching a tennis match takes discipline. It means being trapped in your seat, in conversational purdah, for hours on end.

Noise levels are already more noticeable than ever before. There’s an undercurrent of Pimm’s sipping, crisp packet rustling and phone bleeping. The introduction of Hawk-Eye technology has brought with it cheering, clapping, “oohs” and “aahs”. But even so, during play you can still hear a pin drop – and it needs to stay that way.

No doubt, at this point, thousands of parents are throwing their hands up in horror. And I do understand why – as a country, we’re becoming increasingly intolerant of children. Many feel their offspring aren’t welcome in public life.

But a day out at the tennis isn’t public life. Nor is it a family event. No baby cares about Murray’s first serve percentage – unlike the fans who have camped overnight to see their hero in action.

I first went to Wimbledon aged eight. While my patient father tried in vain to watch Boris Becker vs Michael Stich, what did I do? Pull on the corner of his jacket and whine about needing the loo. Even though I had a sense of the occasion, I was too young to appreciate it. I’m furious with myself in hindsight – so goodness knows how the people sitting around us must have felt at the time.

I’m not a complete monster. On planes, I don’t sit in my economy seat shooting hostile looks towards children and muttering under my breath. Like it or not, kids have just as much need as anyone else to be there. And I tend to feel sorry for the parents, provided they’re not clinking wine glasses while ignoring the fact that their toddlers are running up and down the aisle, terrorising the other passengers.

But that doesn’t mean all public spaces should be a child free-for-all.

At the cinema too many parents now are content to bring their children then let them wail. Anyone who’s put up with crying for 20 minutes of a film has the right to be angry. The same goes for the theatre. I understand you want little Ludo to appreciate the arts, but I can’t help feeling the entire experience is excruciating for all. “I remember when Mummy and Daddy