I attempted to buy a steak bake at Greggs with a brick and got very short shrift. My wife explained our money was tied up in bricks and mortar. It hurts to know my son had more money than I did. I have enough in savings to tide me over until I die – but only if I die next Friday. On reflection, I haven’t had it since his birth.

I justified the pilfering on the simple grounds that he had £50 in readily available cash and I didn’t. I raided my own son’s loose change savings with such regularity that he placed tripwire behind the bedroom door: a feat of remarkable ingenuity for a seven-year-old. I’m only disappointed that parents have dug into porcelain pigs to pay for school dinner cash and school trips, rather than the things that really matter. In years to come they’ll want your car, students fees and the price of a wedding.

They have taught their offspring an important life lesson.įor light-fingered mothers riddled by guilt, I say: “Those children were in your womb for nine months – look on it as rent in arrears.” MAY I be among the first to congratulate those parents who, according to the national press, snatch £50 a year from their kids’ piggy banks.

How does dragon city piggy bank work