SO that's it. Our youngest was 18 at the weekend. Against all the odds, we've somehow managed to negotiate our way through the obstacle course of parenthood and guided four children past the post into adulthood.

Yes, Max, the baby of the family, is officially a man. In six months, he'll be out of my hair – or what's left of it – and off he'll go to university.

Oh, and guess what he got for his 18th birthday? An electronic drum-kit. Yes, that's right, now he's about to move out, he's got a drum-kit which can be played silently.

Brilliant, isn't it? For the past ten years, the spare bedroom has become known as "the drum room". It has housed an ordinary, traditional drum-kit capable of making more noise than a herd of elephants stampeding through a minefield.

But now, with university beckoning, my wife thought it would be a good idea to invest a whole lot of money in a silent drum-kit for our noisy son. Why now? Why have I had to work my way through millions of ear-plugs and countless boxes of Paracetamol before she finally saw sense?

The answer, apparently, is that an electronic drum-kit is more portable, so it will be easier for him to take with him when he goes off to university to do his performing arts degree.

I suppose it's a case of better late than never. For the next six months at least, the thump, thump, thump of the herd of elephants will be replaced by the relatively quiet tap, tap, tap of the electronic drums. More like a herd of delicate deer tripping lightly through the forest.

The difference is quite astounding and it is seriously good news for everyone, not least the neighbours, who have shown remarkable tolerance during his daily practice sessions.

Only once has a neighbour (100 yards away in the opposite street) felt the need to run down to our house, hammer on our front door, and yell Basil Fawlty-style through the letter-box: "If you don't shut that racket up, I'm calling the bloody police."

This was largely because it was a stiflingly hot day and Max had left the window wide open while he was drumming. I apologised profusely to the neighbour and issued strict instructions that the drum room windows had to stay shut, even in a heatwave.

To the best of my knowledge, there hasn't been an incident since then but, nevertheless, we owe the neighbours our sincere thanks for their patience.

I invited our extremely nice next door neighbours, John and Liz, into the house on Max's birthday so they could witness at first hand the blissful quietness of the new electronic drum-kit.

They seemed very impressed. John said they were going to celebrate with a party for the other neighbours.

They'd better keep the noise down – that's all I can say.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

NOEL Greaves-Lord, formerly of Darlington and now living in Sussex, has been in touch with a story from a local primary school.

The pupils were talking about healthy food, and one boy announced that he wanted to be a vegetarian. The teacher asked why he felt that might be a healthy thing to do.

"I don't know," replied the boy, "but Mum bought a jumbo pizza and I didn't want to eat elephants."

THANKS to colleague Matt Westcott who passed on a question asked by family friend Anthony, aged 11: “Mam, you know when you were younger – what was money called then?”