IT was supposed to be a relaxed, enjoyable family day out, a friendly game of pitch and putt in a tranquil lakeside setting.

All appeared to be going well until a rather anti-social and quite incoherent lad started shouting and singing at the top of his voice, making it hard for anyone to concentrate. Then, without warning, he made an unsteady dash across the course, oblivious to the risk posed by fast flying, heavy objects, as he tried to grab other people's golf balls from the green. He laughed out loud, clearly amused by his own inconsiderate antics. But we, and everyone else on the course, were livid.

At one point, he had to be hauled back from the edge of the lake when it looked like he was about to topple in. He then staggered over to a bush and started weeing in full view of everyone. And as if that wasn't enough, he proceeded to take his trousers off before running around baring his buttocks as people looked on, horrified.

I'll bet you think I'm describing the sort of outrageous, obscene behaviour you expect from a deranged drunk let loose on a golf course. But no, this was just another day out with our two-year-old, a typically energetic, ebullient toddler. And todders, just like drunks, can be alarmingly fearless, a danger to themselves and everyone else.

Neither has any understanding of the consequences of their actions. Both have the ability to create utter chaos, leaving those around them in a constant state of anxiety. And they need constant care and attention.

The actor Johnny Depp got it spot on recently when he said, after looking after his young children on his own for a few days, that it was "just like being in charge of lots of little drunk people".

But if this is true, so must be the reverse. Those marauding gangs of drunks we see in so many of our town centres on Saturday nights are just like toddlers. Surely, then, it is unsafe to let them out on their own.

Instead of slapping Anti-Social Behaviour Orders on those who misbehave, how much more effective it would be if they were only allowed out in the company of a parent, constantly on hand to remind them to say please and thank you, take them to the toilet, order them to take the traffic cones back to where they found them and clean up after they've been sick. At least our pavements would be a lot cleaner on a Sunday morning...

JOHNNY Depp came out with another comment this week that parents of young children will readily identify with. "It's amazing when you get to a certain age, and you talk about sleep in the same way you spoke about getting inebriated... I got eight hours last night. It was fantastic!"

We have often been tempted, although have never had the nerve, to book a babysitter from about 5pm, not in order to go out, but just so that we could go to bed and sleep all evening. So much for the Joy of Sex, we parents of young children fantasise about the Joy of Sleep.

How I envy the friend who has just returned from a luxury weekend break in Edinburgh. Her husband booked it for their wedding anniversary, to coincide with her finishing breast-feeding her second child. It was her first time away since having her first child three years before.

"What do you want to do?" he said. "We can go out to a restaurant, take in a show or a film, go on a pub crawl, whatever you want." She thought for a moment: "Do you think we could get room service, I'm really tired and fancy an early night." "When I thought about it," she told me later, "all I really wanted to do was sleep." And that's what she did. Over the weekend, her husband spent a lot of time in the hotel bar while she slept and slept and slept. "I hardly saw anything of Edinburgh, but it was wonderful, just what I needed," she said. That's what Johnny Depp would call a fantastic weekend.

MY sister's son accidentally stood on a cow pat when they were out for a walk recently. "Why don't cows wear nappies?" he complained.

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