I don’t usually give advice.

Sometimes, though, advice can save others from a horrible, traumatising experience.

Turns out there’s something in the ceiling of all toy superstores shooting out rays of pure evil that turn toddlers into raving psychopaths. That’s my theory anyway. Certainly my son’s behaviour had nothing to do with anything I did. Probably.

He started pointing and “wow”ing as we went down an aisle of exciting looking scooters. “I know what I’ll do” I thought, “I’ll let him have a go on one of the scooters, he’ll like that.”

He did like it. A lot. I pushed him up and down the aisle. His grin was huge. Then I put the scooter back on the shelf.

For some reason this made him very angry.

My solution was to entice him into the next aisle with a cool looking ride on car. I pushed him up and down on it and if anything he liked it more than the scooter. Then I put the car back on the shelf.

This is when the rays of evil from the ceiling really started to kick in. My son went stark raving bonkers. I panicked. I decided, in the moment, to entice him away from the ride on car with a ride on aeroplane. He loved it more than both the others put together.

I realised I didn’t know what to do next. This situation may be about to spiral out of control. I looked around for Mummy. She was nowhere to be seen.

I put the aeroplane back on the shelf.

You don’t often see people really hurl themselves to the ground in rage. Even a stunt man flinches a little before they hit the floor. Not my son though. He belly flopped onto the shop tiles, skidded several feet, and began bellowing like a velociraptor with a stubbed toe.

As I carried him out, writhing and screeching, even the shop staff looking judgemental, I reflected on the lessons to be learned.

Never, ever take your toddler into a toy superstore. Especially if you’re an idiot.