A demented cage-fighter has taken over my home. It’s terrifying

In the last few weeks my life has begun to resemble the plot of a Hollywood B movie. An alpha male has invaded my home, terrorised my children and enslaved my wife. If I raise the slightest objection to anything he does, he kicks me in the balls. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I have become his bitch, running and dashing to satisfy his every need.

I’m talking about my two-year-old son Charlie. He has always been my most difficult child, refusing to sleep through the night, prone to tantrums, etc. But until recently he existed on the periphery of my life. He was a little ball of anger, thrashing around on the floor and howling with fury. He was someone who had to be stepped over rather than engaged with.

However, in the past month or so he has suddenly acquired the gift of intelligence. In the case of my three elder children, I’ve noticed that their intellectual development has taken place in spurts, struggling to speak in sentences one minute, asking you to explain the Pythagorean theorem the next.