My son's friend makes me appreciate my own kids even more

I recently made the mistake of inviting my son’s friend on a family weekend away and learned in the process that I’m not quite as good with children as I thought.

There’s nothing quite like spending a considerable amount of time with someone else’s child to make you thankful for your own gang, is there?

Like any mum, I see my children’s flaws - and believe me, there are plenty to choose from - but I’m also used to their foibles and quirks meaning I don’t flare up when they present themselves.

I am not, however, used to other children’s pedantic nature so attempting to keep my cool through various sulks and emotional meltdowns proved harder than I anticipated last weekend.

Two days camping with three of my own kids and a neighbour’s son illustrated that I may be good with my own children, but that’s where the skill ends.

I’m ashamed to say that his behaviour irked me and his constant whining didn’t elicit the empathy one might expect.

I spent the first day attempting to placate him and did everything in my power to ensure he was having a good time, but then I realised moaning and whining was just in his nature.

It was simply how he communicated.

He complained about the distance from the tent to the shower rooms.

He whined about the proximity of his sleeping bag to my son’s.

He whinged when he was sent to buy bread rolls from the campsite supermarket.

He sulked when he thought another gang of boys were looking at him.

He was hard work, by anyone’s standards, but he didn’t seem to mean much by any of it.

Like I say, it was simply how he communicated.

By the second morning, I had stopped trying to please him and simply left him to whinge, and soon I saw the humour in the whole thing.

This 14-year-old child was a contrary old man in a teenage boy’s body.

Everything irked him and he liked it that way.

Like other people want to find pleasure in the little things, he wants to find fault in everything.

In a strange way, being annoyed pleased him.

And once I realised this, I stopped worrying.

Delivering him back to his family home on Sunday evening made me realise I need to cut my kids more slack from time to time.

I mean, I've yet to see one of them sulk because a butterfly wouldn't come to them when they called it.