At the weekend I was on the Southbank, wandering along between Shakespeare's Globe and Borough Market.
There's a replica of Francis Drake's ship The Golden Hinde moored at Pickford's Wharf at the end of Clink Street and as I approached it, I was passed by what I assumed to be a father and son in the middle of a heated discussion.
Well, the boy - who I reckon was 7 or 8 years old - was heated, his Dad was incredibly calm and behaved as if he'd heard it all before.
BOY: You've made me lose my temper now... so I'm going to tell Social Services that you haven't taken me anywhere at all...
DAD: I've got lots of photos of you.
BOY: So? I'll tell Social Services they were taken before...
DAD: Will you stand there by the pirate ship.
BOY: What here?
[THE BOY SMILES. HIS DAD TAKES A PHOTO. THE BOY INSTANTLY SCOWLS AGAIN]
DAD: You know when I put the photos on the computer it'll show the date and time when they were taken.
At which the boy snorted through his nose. Partly it was a snort of disgust but mostly it registered defeat and his annoyance at the unfairness of the world for not allowing him to lie to Social Services about the nice time his father hadn't shown him. Remarkable. Indeed, I remarked upon it.