The custody battle involving a vegetarian mother and a non-vegetarian father, has left me wondering just how much a parent can justifiably interfere with a child's diet. In this case, a five-year-old boy had not seen his dad for a year because of his mum's fear that dreaded meat might pass his lips.

As someone who was an enforced vegetarian, I sympathise with the poor lad. My father wouldn't allow meat in to the house, a rule which merely had the effect of making meat seem all the more delicious and tempting. I have fond childhood memories of the rare occasions I consumed meat: the succulent ham bought covertly while dad was away; the turkey dinosaurs for tea at my friends' houses; the outstanding chicken and mushroom pie I ate at Auntie Ruth's. The grass is always greener on the other side, especially when you're eating said grass for tea.

Both my parents tried to control my diet, and both endeavours have failed. My old dad would be pleased to know that my diet now mostly consists of fish, but there was a period where I was working in a gastropub and got really into offal. And when I lived for a year in France, I committed as many unethical culinary sins as were available to me – foie gras, veal, little baby chickens, the works – often while wearing a fox fur stole and smoking a fag. I'd like to say it wasn't a rebellion but it probably was. Similarly, now that I no longer live with the looming shadow of my mother's MSG preoccupation, I get a little thrill at the fact that I can eat Super Noodles whenever I want (which is, of course, never).

This is why the proposal in a letter to the Telegraph that children should not attend school until they are six or seven, so that they have enough time to express their "natural creativity", strikes terror into my heart. Everyone knows that at school, natural creativity is social suicide, and that the main function of the institution is to stamp out any individual characteristics that the hive mind deems unacceptable. Sometimes when I'm in a bad mood my mother will tut and say, "I put you into nursery too soon". No, you did the right thing, mother. It's bad enough that I had never seen a sausage roll. Had I been left to my parents' devices for seven years, I'd have gone to school wearing one of those hats with little bells on it.

The most committed vegetarians I've met are those who made the decision autonomously, usually as teenagers approaching adulthood. They have usually made the decision to go veggie for ethical reasons, and I admire them for it. In contrast, I meet many an enforced child vegetarian who has defected to the carnivorous, although of course learning that not every meal need contain a gigantic slab of bloody flesh is a lesson one carries into adulthood. I'm just not sure how effective enforced dietary regulations are when you're trying to instil enthusiasm for a lifestyle choice in your child. The old saying "my house, my rules", is all very well, but at some point you have to start viewing your child as an individual capable of making their own choices, surely? It's like those parents who make teenage couples sleep in separate bedrooms. If you think that'll stop them shagging then you're having a laugh.