A couple of days ago, I was blinded by a flash of light coming out of a pram, I averted my eyes only to fix on the perma tanned yellow Capri pants wearing mother. She had a dog rough Liverpool accent and she pulled her favourite fashion accessory out of the pram for a feed.

It was baby bling, a toddler brandishing a dummy with a gold chain heavy enough to make Mr T get neck strain.

I really wanted to take a picture, but the mama was pretty rancid and although the government assure us that mad cow disease is under control, I did not want a piece of that beef.