AIN'T life easier when you're nearly two years old?

All you want to do is read books, do jigsaw puzzles and eat chocolate.

To add some variety to this non-stop routine you might suggest that you put on your boots and go for a walk, or look for cats or squirrels in the garden.

Then you could rush to the patio doors and shout "shoo! shoo!", while banging on the glass.

And the cats and squirrels could look back at you with a contempt they usually save for the pigeons.

When you're nearly two it's OK to break wind in a very smelly fashion, it's fine to burp and, bless her chubby cheeks, it's even okay to walk round with a stinky nappy telling everyone how much you poo.

And if you don't get your own way there is always the old faithful - cry big tears and run and look for the other parent routine, which is backed up by run and look for a grandparent if mum and dad say no, and if all else fails point at big sister and say she hit you.

Of course when you're five it's harder to prove your innocence.

Sometimes, no matter how much you protest, no one will believe that you didn't smack your little sister on the legs as she walked past.

It's no wonder that you're under suspicion by the authorities.

So this week's news that the Identity and Passport Service gave out 10,000 passports to fraudulent applicants comes as a surprise to me.

They even gave passports to two convicted terrorists.

And yet, when I send my angelic five-year-old daughter's passport off to be renewed it takes weeks, and the IPS feel the need to check with her referee that she really does know my daughter? What sort of threat is this protecting us from?

I'm less than delighted to pay £48 to get a new passport for a child, and I wonder how that cost was worked out.

I only hope those 10,000 fraudulent applicants paid the same and that their cheques were cashed before the passports were sent out.