I WAS waiting patiently in line for a smoothie at the markets when it happened.

My head was in the clouds thinking whether I should deviate from a classic banana smoothie to something a little more exotic when I felt an excruciating pain across my right foot.

I looked down to see a tyre of what I thought was a Toyota Yaris on my foot.

Totally panicked, I looked up to see a mum pushing a six-metre wide pram completely oblivious to the fact she had parked it on top of me.

Seriously, this pram was so huge I thought she had an entire baby football team in there.

But when I peered inside all I could see was one lone little soldier, no bigger than an echidna, peacefully tucked in the monstrosity.

“Excuse me, you’re on my foot,” I whimpered.

“Oh,” she said before wheeling it off.

No sorry, not even a feeble excuse as to how she didn’t see me standing there.

I collected my smoothie (I went with classic banana) and forgot about the ugly incident.

Until two days later.

I was enjoying a stroll along the footpath on my way home from work.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I see a pram coming at full speed towards me.

I’ve noticed that speed is a trick used by obnoxious pushers to frighten you out of the way.

It works every time, including this one.

With barely enough time to look left and right I quickly worked out I had two options, fall into the bushes beside me or jump into oncoming traffic.

The choice was easy and in under a minute after first spotting the fast moving pram I was snuggling a rather unforgiving hedge.

“Thaaaankssss,” the pusher yelled as they floated on by.

It must be said that not every pushy pram pusher is a mum and not every pram pusher is pushy.

For example, I was at a cafe last week when a dad waltzed in pushing his 4wd pram, bumping every man and his dog as he made his way through the lines of tables.

Once again this contraption was so intense it would’ve been more at home on a battlefield than a suburban cafe.

Smashed avo and lattes were flying as it steamrolled through.

I myself almost choked on my bacon as he pushed his way past my chair with not so much as an “excuse me”.

Camera Icon Maybe a course in courteous, responsible pram ownership should be a compulsory requirement of expectant parents. (Pic: iStock) Credit: istock

Once he found a waiter to ask for a table, he refused to sit in the doorway and forced the poor waiter to rearrange the entire floor plan so he and his giant pram could enjoy their breakfast in peace.

A luxury not afforded to us plebs sans pram.

A couple of years back I remember reading an article about parents who said they faced “pram discrimination”.

They felt that people were annoyed by their prams and at the time I felt great sympathy for them.

But now I think it wasn’t really the pram that saw them subjected to dirty glances and groans.

It’s the obnoxious and entitled manner in which some parents get about with their pram.

Like I’ve explained in detail in past columns, I’m not into bans, so I’m not suggesting a ban of the pram in tight spaces, crowded public areas or within 10 metres of me.

What I am suggesting is that the government give out a free baby sling with a booklet on being a courteous, responsible pram owner every time a child is born.

From experience I know that telling parents they can be annoying doesn’t always go down too well.

There’s some sort of weird phenomenon that happens when you have a kid that makes you think you’re beyond reproach.

I’m not trying to make a hard job even harder.

I love parents, some of my best friends are parents — my parents are parents.

All I’m asking of our pram pushing citizens is some basic manners.