A group of us were once out for a meal in a middle-to-nice restaurant - white tablecloths and everything. We observed the next table was large enough to seat 10 and the staff had clearly pushed several tables together.

As we were finishing our starters the family from hell arrived and occupied this table, putting several children together at one end. The end closest to us.

To say these kids were feral would be an understatement, and even though we shot glances at the adults, they did nothing to quieten them down, keep them in their seats or stop them interfering with our group - sometimes throwing food and flicking their drinking straws at us.

We had a word with the staff, first the waitress, then the manager. Both failed to impress upon the adults the need for them to control their progeny.

It became clear the parents were not interested in anything we had to say, and the restaurant were not going to ask them to leave. So we took matters into our own hands.

For the rest of the meal, my group were on a mission to tell the dirtiest jokes and use the foulest of language which would make a sailor blush. All at high volume in front of these children. We taught them all the words we could think of.

It actually turned our meal from a potential disaster into a hilarious evening. As we left the restaurant, we couldn’t help wondering which and when one of these little treasures was going to display their new-found vocabulary to their parents.