I noticed from a report in a national newspaper that a mother had been ordered by the courts to attend parenting classes following the misbehaviour of her child.

Two things struck me immediately. One was that it was the mother who had been instructed to attend the parenting classes, not the father, and secondly who was going to give her the lessons.

I imagine that some social services person was drafted in to give her some practical advice about how to avoid some of the worst pitfalls in a general sense, such as pinching cars is not a good idea and shoplifting is regarded as anti-social behaviour and may land you back in court, but is that the art of parenting?

Most of us, certainly those of us who are of riper years, learned what is now called in official jargon 'parenting' as we followed our mothers and aunts around the house doing pretend dusting and cooking those disgusting gingerbread men who all looked as though they were suffering from some dreadful terminal disease.

Grey pastry jam tarts were certainly a favourite and when we got to macaroni cheese, all gunky and globular, we had reached the acme of Delia Smith perfection.

But that was in many ways the least of the benefits we received at our mother's apron strings.

We talked about all sorts of things. We were the originators of the 'cabbages and kings' conversations and we absorbed a lot of wisdom merely by hearing our mothers telling us about the earlier years of the family.

We got to hear about the family sayings and who had been the black sheep of the family and why. In short we learned how to take our place in the order of things and what constituted acceptable behaviour and what did not. There was no need for our mothers to be sent to parenting classes. They had learned at their mother's knee and now we were benefiting.

Of course it is silly to suppose that every family behaved like the heroines of Little Women but on the whole mothers would have been mortified at having to be instructed by outsiders and in many cases the less well prepared of young parents were offered help from among the community.

In those days a street was a community. Fewer women went to work and the home was at the centre of the family. Sadly in these days of high- rise flats and urban concrete jungles there is much less community spirit. A whole generation has grown up without the time, or, indeed, in many cases, the knowledge, to teach those skills to their children.

The computer and the TV set have taken the place of the kitchen and the cooking bowl that we licked so happily after the cake mix had gone into the oven.

This still leaves unanswered the question of why the father was not mentioned as needing some skills training in this field. Sadly there are many families without fathers these days. Both family and fathers are the losers where there is no contact.

Think ahead a few years and imagine what it will be like for the present generation who may have little in the way of role models and feel sad for them. I'm glad I'm not young any more.