On Sunday morning, I took my boys to rugby training. I am determined, this year, to be religious in my attendance, as last year their presence was, at best, patchy. It is also a social affair: they get to kick and tackle their friends, and I get ignored by the local community of rightful couples.

My boys were training at the opposite sides of the training fields. It was impossible for me, unless I possessed the gift of ubiquity, to be in two places at the same time.

Mr Mechanic offered to watch Pest n.2, and I trotted off to cringe at Pest n.1's feeble attempts at getting an oval ball.

Later, when both Pest n.2 and Mr Mechanic had joined us, we all stood at the edge of the field, watching Pest n.1 marvelling at the sky and the surrounding countryside whilst the other boys were chasing, scrumming and tackling. I have given birth to a dreamer.

I remember looking at Mr Mechanic, holding my sons' bags, changing my little boys' shoes, and generally busying himself as if he were a local parent. I think I gave him a little friendly hug, possibly a light peck, in gratitude for being 'there'. It was an innocent gesture.

Today, I picked up Pest n.1 at the bus stop. He came into the car looking very pensive.

'Did you kiss M at rugby, on Sunday?' he asked, suddenly.

'Pardon?' I was preoccupied with some work matters.

'Did you kiss M at rugby on Sunday???' he repeated.

'No, I don't think so,' I replied.

'You did,' he said. There was a note of accusation in his voice.

'Mmmmmm, no... I did not.'

I let it drop then, and so did he. I saw his little worried face in my rearview mirror, and wondered. I remembered the hug, but I was not even sure about the peck. In any case, nothing I should be afraid of.

Later, in bed, I kissed him goodnight.

'Why did you ask me about the kiss, sweetie?' I asked.

'The H boys were on the bus, and they told me: your mother snogged that man.'

I got angry. The boys go to the same school as Pest n.1, and they are young, but older than he is. He is one, it's three of them. I did not "snog" anybody. I am not even sure all of them were there at the rugby pitch at the time, so there must have been some talk about it.

"Your mother snogged that man." It sounds nasty. My son did not even know what 'snogging' meant until they told him.

If boys cannot be friends, they could at least make an effort not to be foes.