Shocking revelation: grown ups can be just as, if not more than, pathetic than young people. In the “young people” category, I am including those “Terrible Two” year olds.

Dad burns brother’s arm with a saucepan. Brother screams and throws knife at sister. Dad does not apologise (for most men are not of the apologising variety). Brother does not apologise, because he has dad’s genes. Does this hint at dysfunctional? I can never tell when the boundary between playful family banter has been passed. Was there ever playful family banter? I’m guessing not, although the blanket of family banter was thrown over anything which could be passed off as “not like other families”.

(I am four. They tear up the passport photos they keep of each other in their wallets. There are tears. They are in bed; I am standing at the foot, staring at the mahogany whorls in the wood. They shout. I cry. He says: “Don’t worry, we’re playing.” Playing was something I understood, so fobbed off with this word, play, I left them, stepped over the torn up face, the upside-down nose, the fringe, the glint in the glasses. The giant ginger moustache.)

Mami: *to dad after 5 minutes* Will you apologise to him?

Dad: Apologise? Why? I didn’t do anything.

Mami: You burnt him.

Dad: *feigns surprise and shock* Never! *wide eyes*

Sister: You did. So you should apologise.

Dad: It was an accident. I don't make a habit of burning family.

Sister: Most normal people would apologise anyway.

Dad is livid, and rages about him not having to apologise. Does “she” (points at sister) apologise for her messy room? Ten minutes later, he apologises profusely to brother, playing up the apology, mocking us. He provides all the ammunition we need; accusing us of being “hormonal nagging women”. He is the one who creates the gender divide, and then uses it to his defence. My brother sits there smirking. Some small part of him likes the digs. He will grow up to have an unhealthy regard for women. I can see him now, suavely gazing at a future girlfriend, accusing her calmly of hormonal nagging.

I escaped to digest my food peacefully.

After having seen this picture in the Guardian (media section, good article), I almost wish I had never bought an iPod. If it breaks anytime soon, I will be a devout stalkee of the iDon't website.

The marketing of the iDon't alternative is clever. Very clever. So much so that I didn't realise for half an hour that the site was not just slagging off Apple and its "iTatorship".

This picture has an immediate link in my brain to Nazi Germany. I blame that entirely on my History teacher, and the bright yellow sheet he handed out, which has been eternally scanned onto the back of my retinas. The yellow sheet featured Hitler sitting on a donkey, waving both a carrot and a stick at the animal. The link now lies between Apple and Hitler. Entirely unjustified, I know.

I love my iPod nevertheless, or at least, until the next time it freezes.