"Ice cream ice cream ice cream!" Little Leo's vocal chords seem to be stuck like a record, while his little legs have gone into overdrive mode. Six-year-old big sister Alina is following at a more sedate and dignified pace.

A small sigh of relief escapes Daddy's mouth, after little Leo trips and threatens to perform a very acrobatic faceplant straight in front of the ice-cream parlour but manages to right himself at the last second. Disaster averted.

"I want chocolate and strawberry, Daddy!" the little guy squeals in delight, pointing at the respective flavours with his pudgy little fingers. With a smile, Dad hands Alina her cone, who takes her sweet refreshment happily and saunters outside to wait for the rest of the family.

'See, wifey, it's not so difficult to keep them entertained, is it?' With this rather uncharitable, but justified thought – after all, she had been going on about how hard it was to look after two young children and that he wouldn't be able to cope for half an hour on his own until he had agreed to take them for an ice cream – he gives Leo a little bowl containing the requested chocolate and strawberry scoops. A bowl, not a cone. There you go. Apply common sense, make parenting easy.

But instead of happily grabbing the bowl filled with sweet temptation, little Leo starts wailing, "Leo don't want bowl! Leo want cone. Like Alina. And Leo want chocolate."

Daddy bends down to his son. "Look, there is chocolate! And a bowl is much better than a cone, Leo," he says gently, proud to have cleared up his son's confusion with rational explanations.

But Leo has started to shake his head and stamp his feet. "No, no, no!"

Daddy gives the lady behind the counter an embarrassed smile and tries to grab hold of this tiny monster in an effort to whisk him away quickly, but Leo darts through the tables and chairs like a professional parkour athlete. He comes to a sudden halt when a vending machine full of cheap and nasty, overpriced colourful plastic appears in front of him like an apparition.

His wailing changes direction. "Leo want ball. Leo want ball."

Quickly Daddy inserts a coin and hands Leo a shiny ball triumphantly. His hopes of regaining control of the situation are quickly dashed, though, when Leo screams, "Not that ball. Leo want orange ball!"

Half a month's wages later, still unable to produce a cheap piece of orange plastic, and Leo's constant high-pitched wailing having pierced every customer's eardrums, Dad drops down onto the nearest chair in despair and closes his eyes.

Suddenly, the wailing seems to multiply. Dad squints through one eye carefully, immediately regretting this decision.

Alina has stormed back in, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Look what happened!" She frantically waves an empty cone in Dad's face, sobbing hard.

"I had just one lick and all the ice cream fell. I want ice cream! And I want Mummy!"

Dad smacks his forehead onto the table in front of him, mentally dreaming of adoption agencies.