1. What male parents make of it all. Or fathers, as they are sometimes called on Earth. In a world wide web of ninth degree scrutiny of mothering by mothers, it’s hard to tell. 

2. Why a campaign hasn’t been launched by someone somewhere to ban the hideous term Baby Led Weaning. Or a campaign to ban me from convulsing over it. Or a piss-taking swipe at it, or an earnest unpicking of it in the context of the ever expanding lexicon of parenting. Everything that pisses me off about parenting can be summed up by it. Look, I’ll settle for a poxy bumper sticker at this stage.

3. Whether I have prevented even one prospective parent from buying an Angel Care monitor. I’d like to think I’m doing my bit to support parental consumer ‘choice’. Add to that one less travel system purchase and my job here on hell is done.

4. Of any parents who came through private maternity care freely willing to admit they thought it was a waste of money. They must exist. Step forward like good people. We’ll disguise your voice. We’ll even distort your face. We won’t use your real name. We’ll get Miriam to do the gushing intro and that surly McCullough bloke to interview you with his confidence-inspiring indifference. How about a witness protection programme? A French fancy? Two French fancies? Both pink?

5.  Of any songs about parenting. That’s worrying. Parenting is on a par with vegetarianism and jogging in the song-writing department. That ought to tell us something.