WE'VE just returned from a very enjoyable weekend in Harrogate with the children – not as enjoyable as it would have been had the children stayed at home, but still very pleasant. When we got home, I double checked the map and apparently Harrogate is not actually in a different country, or even a different county. It's just so bloomin' posh – even the town centre ne'er-do-wells wear designer outfits and sip lattes as they ride their suspiciously expensive mountain bikes without hands.

The spa town does not yet even have a proper Tesco, although it did buy a plot of land 12 years ago and will build a big store as soon as the locals agree to remove their Range Rovers blocking the site entrance.

We had a particularly nice time at the Royal Horticultural Society's Harlow Carr Gardens.

There was a little wooden tree house which the children enjoyed immensely.

A little boy – let's call him Fergus, because that's what his mother did – climbed to the top of the tree house and took great pleasure in hoyin' clemmies at the people below.

"Please, dear Fergus, don't throw stones," his mother pleaded, as a monster rock fizzed past my temple.

It was all a little disconcerting, although it did allow me to reminisce about a time during my own childhood when we too went through a David and Goliath phase.

I'm sure every child does it at some stage – spend long summer days flinging stones at friends in a bid to kill and maim. We even crafted little wooden shields which we used to defend ourselves.

It's one of several things I keep filed away in my head under "children are stupid". I use the memories whenever a child is caught skidding the tortoise upside down across the kitchen floor, spraying an entire can of WD40 all over the shed or gouging out concrete with the axe. Breathe, remember what you were like and then administer the telling off.

Back in the Dales, DJ Wilko has struck again. I'm reliably informed a Dales primary school hired the disco king to put on a show for pupils. Of course, DJ Wilko only has one volume setting on his equipment and that's full blast. Some children were left with ringing ears and some parents weren't impressed.

That's a proper education. The four 'Rs' – reading, writing, 'rithmetic, and rock.