THEY say a problem shared is a problem halved. That's certainly the case with guilt. Since baring my soul over our eldest's broken ankle, the messages of consolation from other mums and dads have been a source of great comfort.

Just to recap, it was me who'd persuaded him to sledge down a particularly steep hill. And it was me who told him to stop making a fuss when he yelled in agony after falling off. I've been trying to make it up to him ever since he had the operation to insert screws into his shattered ankle: "Can I get you a drink? Something to eat? Need anything from town? A book? A video? Anything?"

But I now know I'm far from alone. The world, it seems, is full of mums and dads who are racked with guilt because they didn't take their kids seriously when they cried out in pain.

People like Sue Kirk, from Middlesbrough, who e-mailed about the time she was cleaning her five-year-old son's ears with a cotton bud. "He said it hurt but I told him not to be so soppy," Sue recalled. The boy ended up in casualty with a perforated ear drum.

"The guilt is still with me and I can't look at a cotton bud without thinking of it," said Sue.

Then there was Peter Barber, of Newton Hall, Durham, who wrote with a guilty conscience about the day he went kite-flying with his children Andrew and Fiona.

Fiona started howling but, "as a result of the old crying wolf syndrome", Dad didn't take much notice.

"As it continued, I ran to her to find the kite nylon was wrapped round her ankle resembling a cheese wire cutting through her leg. I still feel dizzy thinking about it," he said.

Their thoughtful messages were designed to ease the burden; to demonstrate that making mistakes and feeling guilty about them is part and parcel of parenthood. Mind you, that hasn't stopped our own Hopalong Cassidy from rubbing it in as deeply as possible, telling everyone how I'm to blame for his incapacity. His little brother hasn't helped. He's adopted one of his crutches as some kind of weapon of mass destruction. "It's all your fault, Dad - and now you're gonna die," he shouted, aiming the crutch at me from behind the settee, before making a "CASHOO" sound meant to be a missile being fired across the lounge.

On a return visit to the hospital for a check-up this week, it all took a sinister twist. I overheard Hopalong having a discussion with a nurse about the possibility of making money out of my misjudgement.

"Do you reckon I'd be able to sue me Dad?" he asked a nurse.

"Oh, I should think so," she told him. I'm really not sure if they were joking or not.

He was inspired by the NHS guide he'd been given on to how to use his crutches. Sponsored by a firm of solicitors, it has an advert on the back, declaring: Accident? Injured? Call the personal injury specialists. Nothing to pay guaranteed. Keep your compensation in full. It wouldn't surprise me one bit to discover that he's called the freephone number.

The only other time he managed to raise himself from his sick bed in the two weeks since the accident was to hobble along to the options evening at school. At 13, he has to decide which subjects he wants to take for his GCSEs. It's clearly a big decision and, at the time of going to press, two in particular have caught his eye: business studies and drama.

Judging by the way he's looking to cash in on his hillside drama, I think he'll go far.

PS Have you ever been left feeling guilty because you wouldn't listen to your children? Let me know because I have a feeling this one will run and run - or at least limp along nicely.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

DOREEN Sandford, of Catterick WI, took the trouble to explain to me what "inset days" are at school. They are apparently days to allow teachers to catch up with training. She recalled the time one little boy was asked by his granny why he wasn't at school. "Because the teachers are having an incest day," he replied.

CATTERICK WI President Rose Heaton told of the time her sister Mary was working in a nursery school in Dundee. A mum came in to register her new born baby boy for a future place at the school and was asked what he was called. "Gooey," said the Mum. "Hughie?" asked Mary. "No, Gooey," insisted the Mum. "Oh," said Mary, who went through the entire registration process convinced that the day was coming when a new boy called Gooey started at the nursery. "Sorry, but how do you spell it?" she asked at the end of the interview. "G-U-Y," said the Mum, "I saw it in a Mills and Boon book and I just liked it."

JEAN Metcalfe, another Catterick WI member, recalled the time she said to son Brian: "If you don't behave, I'm going to give you a good hiding." Her daughter Jill looked puzzled and asked: "Mummy, what room are you going to hide in?"