Non-parents, as a breed, are people who haven't got children, don't want
	children, and have absolutely wonderful child-free lives. They're the sort
	who just swan out to the shops on a Saturday morning without having to make
	plans equivalent to the movement of NATO troops around Europe. The ones who
	cheerfully wear white blouses and shirts, confident that no one's going to
	puke down them, and can say at the drop of a hat "lets go to the pictures

	Non-parents, regard nappies on a par with nuclear waste dumps .. something
	they know exists but have no wish to be within several miles of.
	Non-parents have pastel-pink carpets and cream coloured sofas, and do crazy
	things like keep booze and record collections in floor level cupboards,
	precious ornaments are kept at tempting just within reach positions.
	Non-parents just don't want to know about children and hands-on experience
	anyone under 12 years is more scary than Mike Tyson on a bad day. Faced
	with a gurgling bundle, they become stiff, scared and tongue-tied, as if
	the wee one needed intelligent conversation instead of simple clucking and

	Well that was us to a tee, especially when we were at a party, although it 
	was only an informal one, we had just finished our "take-away meal" when our
	friend  did something so terrible I hardly dare tell you what it was.
	...OK...I will, if you insist... She changed her baby's diaper right there on
	the living room carpet. Anyway it was at that point that we stopped fancying
	vegetable biryani and became determined to stay non-parents. We didn't want
	kids, and weren't going to have any, and even if we did have one we'd never
	change it's nappy on the living room carpet.'ve guessed it....we had a baby. Of course we tried to keep the
	promise about carpets, but it wasn't easy. Sleep deprivation is a very
	effective form of torture practised by terrorists and new born babies.
	After a few weeks of it we would have quite happily changed a nappy in
	front of a capacity crowd at Wembley. When you've been feeding every 2 hours
	all night and changing about 10 nappies a day, the last thing you worry about
	is offending some confirmed non-parent, who's supposed to be a friend.
	It has to be said and there is no doubt about it. The arrival of a small
	baby on the scene can test the best of friendships. As you struggle through
	the day mopping up smelly messes, it becomes hard to remember the time when
	you, wore dry-clean-only clothes and thought that 5.30 am was a time for
	going to bed rather than getting up. You soon learn to take your pleasure
	as and when you can......                 

	That reminds me of the story of two women having a chat, while the child of
	one of them empties a kitchen cupboard and sits on the floor bashing two
	saucepan lids together. The childless friend, fed up with having to shout
	at the top of her voice to make herself heard above the din, eventually
	asks, "Should she be doing that?" The tired mother replies, "Not really,
	but at least it keeps her quiet".

	Then there is the time when you get invited to the Non-parent's house
	and the inevitable happens - blackcurrant juice on the cream-coloured sofa
	pulped smarties on the pastel-pink carpet, a tiny chip on a family heirloom..
	They mutter through clenched teeth that "it doesn't matter a bit", while
	wondering why you haven't been banned from adult society for the next 15 

	Trying to get non-parents round to your way of thinking by inviting them
	around for a conversation about weaning, potty training, sensitive
	disciplining and tantrums can tempt a child-free friend into telling you
	their own, very blunt views on the subject.
	Sometimes, of course, you do find a wonderful non-parent, a real friend who
	doesn't hate kids, and who is quite prepared to roll around on the floor or
	rattle things until your grumpy tot turns into a little angel.	
	Still with all our experience we have found the best way to deal with people
	that believe that children should be seen and not heard, or preferably 
	brought up somewhere else, is to pick up your grubby, runny-nosed offspring, 
	preferably after they have eaten a chocolate biscuit, and tell them to give 
	auntie/uncle a great big goodbye kiss.

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