I’ve seen pooches in pushchairs and cats on leashes.

Parents give children surnames as Christian names (Jackson) and Christian names as foods (Poppy).

Here the vagabonds do crosswords whilst they wait for spare change.

Not literally mind. You’d need to deploy Ripley (for you Alien aficionadi) to sort-out that shit.

It would be more accurate to describe the event as a fair attempt to jump out of Amy’s skin.

Her stomach lurched violently sideways as if struck side-on at high-speed by an invisible car.

The catalyst for this turn of events was a raspberry on the belly. Not of the fruit variety, rather: pursed lips, a sudden expulsion of air, and a hydraulic hiss.

Or, like an explosive whip crack fart if you prefer.

When the guilt eventually subsides from: unintentionally scaring the bejesus from our baby; and for the fit-of-laughter that followed – it will be a reassurance to know that Max has the reflexes of a cat and the side-step of Christian Cullen.