There can be few softer targets for mockery than middle-class yummy mummies, as anyone who has ever listened to conversations at the gates of a well-heeled school in London or the home counties will testify. There’s even a Twitter account – @HighgateMums – devoted to documenting the overheard grievances of these women, the comedy existing principally in the ridiculous names they give their children and the things they feed them, but also in their blithe lack of awareness of how they sound to those outside their charmed circle.
And, yes, if you’re waiting for your child at the gates of a well-heeled school, that arguably makes you one of them, as I’m well aware, but still there are degrees. While I’m guilty of middle-class parenting in many particulars, I can promise I’ve never gone out in public in a sweatshirt bearing the legend “Happiness is a Horse and a Rich Husband”, like the woman I once passed at school drop-off. It might have been ironic but, given the context, I somehow doubt it...