I THINK I shall write a book and call it All Kids Now: The Infantilisation of Britain. Not a day goes by – not an hour goes by – without news of a fresh example of the nation’s descent into childishness. For instance, last week the newspapers were reporting, “top” doctors and “senior medical professionals” – I hope I’m never treated by a medical amateur – say that children are getting fat because they drink too much milk.

They must be living on a different planet, these top doctors. It’s 20 years since I saw a child drinking milk, but I’ve noticed plenty swigging cans of sugary drinks and scoffing junk food. Anyhow, doctors used to tell us that youngsters need milk to develop their bones.

The week before last, the general infantilisation took the form of a suggestion that food items should bear labels telling us how much exercise we’d have to do to work off their calories. The examples given were “an apple and a cream bun”. I think even your average six-year-old would know which of the two would help you put on the lard. Then there’s “stay out of the sun”. No wonder the crippling disease rickets is back. Packets of peanuts bearing the legend, “Contains nuts.” It’s all nuts.

Some schools in the south of England have banned the game of conkers out of health and safety fears that kids might damage their knuckles. A local council in Gloucestershire banned the Cooper’s Hill cheese-rolling competition. This annual jolly has been celebrated for centuries without anyone coming to serious harm. So why are the good burghers of Gloucs suddenly judged to be too “vulnerable” and “at risk” to pursue their ancient pastime? I was glad to see that many ignored the ban and went ahead in spite of the terrible warnings from the health police.

Or have you seen those buses for babies with “sorry, I’m not in service” on the front? GAP the clothing retailer was forced to withdraw its advert showing a white girl with her arm on a black girl’s head. The absurd charge was “racism” – despite the fact that the juxtaposition of the two girls was innocent, affectionate even. And, for heaven’s sake, they were sisters! And then doctrinaire educational bureaucrats have ensured that there are five million fewer children playing competitive sports than there were in 1960 – because, they say, it’s “damaging” for kids to be pitted against one another, even when they so obviously enjoy the rivalry. We’ve not yet gone as far as a school in Washington, in the US, which has banned the game of tag, “because, for their physical and emotional safety, children should keep their hands to themselves”.

Why the pandemic of puerile narcissism which makes folk take endless photos of themselves? Some take pictures of their private parts, and some even take pics of their friend’s private parts, then, when they fall out – the friends, not the private parts – circulate the mucky photos as “revenge porn”.

Well, I am of a certain age and I consider myself experienced, a man of the world. I don’t claim to have seen everything, but I reckon I’ve seen most things. But yesterday morning, sitting in the smallest room in the house, I saw something I never expected to see even if I were to live as long as Methuselah. The wrapper on the packet of toilet rolls gave me instructions on the correct way to wipe my bottom.

This book of mine, if I ever get it written, it’s going to be a bestseller, isn’t it?