According to a recent survey, British mums are fighting back against the breakdown of traditional family dinner times with nine out of 10 making a meal from scratch every night – dear Lord, those researchers are easy to fool.

Figures show that more than half of Britain's mums aged 25 to 50 normally sit down with the family for a meal that 90pc of them have made themselves without resorting to takeaways or ready meals.

If nine out of 10 mothers are making meals from scratch every single night I will personally dress up as a pantomime horse and lie between sheets of lasagne until Jon Snow interviews me on Channel Four.

Looking more closely at the research, it emerges that only 597 women were surveyed, of whom only 60 admitted to being slovenly spitbags who rely on convenience food. The other 540 pretended to be Nigellas in the kitchen, gamely carrying on cooking despite the dazzling glare from their halos.

Having stalked several mothers round the supermarket in the past week in a bid to see what they're feeding their kids, I can confidently say that every one of those slovenly mothers lives in Norwich. And shop at the same shops that I do. And at least one of them is, er, me.

Family dinners for bad mothers involve shovelling equal portions of Super Noodles into each child's mouth while avoiding being brained by the remote control during the daily row about who chooses what's on telly.

I only buy posh, proper food when the children's friends come round for dinner and only then if I'm sure the visitor's parents will see the packaging/peelings/ridiculously expensive, smelly jute bag from the organic grocery shop.

Without home-cooked meals, my children will grow up to be swarthy, stunted dwarves whose sole aim in life will be to deluge the entire country with heroin, guns, hoodies and souped-up Vauxhall Novas. My lack of cooking could very well herald the advent of the apocalypse.

Either that, or the rest of the mothers are lying. My money is on the latter.