WE ARE IN THE queue for the big wheel at Edinburgh's Winter Wonderland when one of my sons gasps at the teenagers behind us, his exclamation forming a cloud that slowly disperses into the freezing dark. "Look at them," he whispers, "that's terrible."
I look round at the boisterous bunch, but can't see anything about their piercings, body art and cutting-edge hairstyles that particularly marks them out from your average ned.
"What?"
"They're smoking," he hisses. "They can't be over 16."
I look at the teenagers again. To be honest, smoking fags looks the least of their worries, but my son is off on an anti-tobacco rant that would make the politicians and civil servants who want to raise the age limit on selling cigarettes proud.
"Turns your lungs black . . . makes your breath smell . . . takes all your money . . . kills you . . ."
"That's right. Who told you all that?"
"Did it in Drugs Ed. Nicotine, it's a drug. We should tell them."
I run through how this conversation might go in my head and estimate that we have a good 20 minutes of standing next to them ahead of us.
As if the festive season hasn't been wearing enough without having to exchange abuse with total strangers in public places. (And come off worse.)
"Er, I think they might already know," I tell him.
Son settles for shaking his head, tutting and theatrical clearing of his throat, while I position myself so his evangelism won't be misconstrued by those trying to enjoy a quiet fag behind us.
It's not just drugs education that has had such a profound effect on my children, but the ban on smoking in public places too.
One of the side-effects of the legislation is forcing smokers to puff away in the street and it is the sight of these hollowed-out husks of humanity hanging limpet-like around the portals of the licensed premises that punctuate their route to (yes, to) and from school that has been so effective as a deterrent over the past couple of years. Not only is it putting them off smoking, it's not a great advertisement for the delights of alcohol either.
Now all we need is for obese families to sit in the window of Britain's burger chains to put children off chips. Oh, wait, that already happens . . .
The full article contains 409 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.