I am expecting the parent police any minute now. They are going to handcuff me and take me away to a remand centre. I will not be allowed back until I have memorised and can repeat word perfect all the recipes in Annabel Karmel’s Superfoods for Babies and Children. Every week I will be visited by a social worker who will sit in while I cook my children a meal. She – for it will be a she, of the prison warden variety, with big biceps and a sneer – will count the vegetable and fruit portions that my children receive and will watch, hawklike, to make sure they swallow every mouthful. I will then have to provide a meal plan for the coming week, a plan that contains oily fish (twice), low glycaemic carbohydrates, antioxidants in the form of tomatoes and blueberries, oatmeal porridge, organic dairy foods and five portions of fruit ‘n veg daily. This plan will not contain white flour or sugar, no hydrogenated fats, no E-numbers and nothing that originated in the deepfreeze section of the supermarket. If I don’t stick to my plan, the wardress will send in back-up troops in the form of fluffy but fearsome Gina Ford who will subject me to lectures on the linking of poor nutrition to ADHD, dismal school performance and the chance of my kids becoming hoodies. She will use the categorical imperative a lot, so I will have to beat her about the head with my unused copy of Organic Cooking for Kids. She will threaten to sue me and close down my blog, depriving sixteen people of their daily dose of joy, laughter and insightful commentary on world events.
It’s that bad: I just gave my children cake for supper.