I hope this doesn't sound offensive, but I think that babies and cats are very similar.

Fiona and I have a young cat, and our friends Pete and Becky have twin baby boys. They act the same! A tickled head results in a squeal (or purr) of delight, either of them might decide to chew on your finger without warning, and just when you think you're forming a special bond with them, they curl up and go to sleep. One thing the babies do that our cat thankfully doesn't do is pull down ladies tops to try and access some breast milk. Apparently the twins are very good at doing this in public. The worst thing Sparkle has ever done in front of a guest is lick her bottom.

I was able to establish these similarities because a large group of us went out for a meal last night and the twins came along for the ride. The food was delicious but we were frustrated by the constant interruptions to our meal from an over-enthusiastic soundsystem playing 'Congratulations' by Cliff Richard every five minutes. I can understand that restaurants might want to make a fuss of birthday groups in the hope that they will generate repeat business, but why does this have to involve the whole restaurant?

By the fourth time the opening bars of Cliff's Eurovision winner began to echo around the restaurant, I felt like walking up to the hapless birthday boy, blowing out his candles and shoving his face into his cake.

"Well done, you're a year older! Now shut up and leave me in peace to enjoy my overpriced rack of ribs."

Just before I left the restaurant I visited the loo, as you do, and discovered that something rather unusual was playing over the speakers (why do they pipe music into the toilets? It's the last place anyone wants to get down and boogie). It was, I kid you not, a 'teach yourself Spanish' CD. The restaurant, who shall remain nameless, have obviously decided that what we need most when relieving ourselves is to learn how to ask for directions to the train station in a foreign language.