Kirsty Bosley: Mum's mean actions enough to leave me cold...

It was tipping it down with rain, and we were all huddled under the tiny bit of protection from the elements that the bus stop afforded us. Not much space at all, for the record, when you're jostling for position alongside 50 other grumbling train-goers.

It was an interesting mix of people, all with two things in common. One, we were sodden and two, we were desperate for the warm comfort of the bus. Half an hour into the wait and still no bus, two particular members of our unusual congregation began to complain, audibly.

I hadn't noticed they were there in the first instance, so small they were. A little boy of around five, and his older sister of around eight were really feeling the sharp wind and rain on their little faces. They were with their mum, and she didn't seem very happy with either of them, particularly when they began airing their complaints.

I'm not sure what any five and eight year old could have done to warrant such hostility, but it seemed that this young mum had reached the absolute end of her tether with the pair.

As the little girl pushed her face into her mum's thigh, she moaned: "How long is the bus going to be? When is it coming?" I nodded to myself -– I'd been thinking the same thing, and if I wasn't 5ft 7, I might have been inclined to push my face into someone's coat myself.

Their mum wasn't as agreeable. "Shut up moaning!" she shouted. The little boy at this point had started to jig up and down, keeping warm. "KEEP STILL!" the mum barked for the second time, smacking his legs and threatening: "NO TABLET WHEN YOU GET HOME!" I assume she meant the digital kind, rather than any kind of life-saving medication.

As she continued to give the kids hell, I almost hit her with my brolly, which I had completely forgotten I was holding. Fortunately, my better judgement (and respect for her kids and, you know, the law) disallowed such action.

I hadn't heard the children complain at all up until that moment, and I really did feel that, what with the weather beating down on them at 7:45am, they had good reason to complain. I don't know what must have happened to make this mum so angry at her children, but it was painful to watch. Why had they inspired such frustration and unhappiness?

With the discovery that I had my umbrella after all, I offered it up to the little ones. This particular brolly came all the way from Hong Kong, a bizarre, deep camouflage umbrella that covers me from my head right down to my elbows. It's the coolest brolly ever – perfect for a makeshift den outside a packed bus stop. So I suggested to the little girl that she take it and hide under it from the wind and rain. Her little brother wasn't interested, he ran behind his mum to shy away from me. "GET HERE!" shouted his mum, "KEEP STILL!".

I felt terrible about it. I felt like I'd just got him into more trouble. The kids though, were unfazed by the shouting. I expect it's part of the general soundtrack of their lives. Tempted by the snazziest umbrella in the whole of the region, nay, the country, the shy little girl took it from me slowly. She was a bit nervous of me (and probably rightly so, I am a stranger) but quite obviously a bit weather-worn, she couldn't resist the lure.

"TAKE IT THEN!" said her mum. I didn't really see anything else of her as we waited for the bus, just the occasional jiggling of the brolly as she laughed at the excellently comfy position she had just found herself in. Her little brother moved around to get a better view of the road – to look out for the bus – but this didn't go down well either. Particularly when he started singing. "SHUT UP SINGING THAT!" scolded his mother as she effed and jeffed down the phone to someone. He soon disappeared under the brolly too, and aside from a few little elbows sticking out and the occasional complaint of: "OW HE JUST HEADBUTTED ME!" they seemed as happy as can be. And that's not very happy, to be honest, when you're in a bus stop waiting for a ride that is seemingly never going to come.

"IF YOU BREAK THAT UMBRELLA THEN THERE'S NO POCKET MONEY FOR A MONTH WHILE YOU PAY BACK THIS LADY!" their mum said, pausing her phone call to reprimand them for something that hadn't even happened yet. I wasn't too concerned, given they were stone still. Apart from the occasional movement from a little giggle or a big brolly jump when the boy sneezed, it was pretty chilled playing.

Their mum continued to jabber down the phone. She was toying with the idea, my nosy journo ears overheard, of taking her kids home instead, given that they were now likely to be f-ing late for school.

I don't know if they did decide to turn back, I gave up waiting just as soon as the rain stopped and decided to walk instead. But part of me hoped they hadn't, instead wishing that the kids would end up in a classroom where they weren't told off for absolutely everything. Where they could express their opinions without getting a constant rollicking.

Perhaps these kids had been playing up for their mum all week.

Maybe their misbehaviour had driven her to distraction. But if it's not socially acceptable, or legally acceptable, for me to wallop her round the back of her legs with my awesome Hong Kong brolly, then why is it alright for her to smack her son's legs when he is jigging around?