KIDS are such noisy, smelly, expensive creations no matter whether they are three months or 33 years. But I've had this amazing idea to cut out the aromas, mess and cost.

As a father of three (they're the ones I know about) I speak with authority. From the moment children are born, the problems start.

First they pull their mother out of shape while they are cocooned in the womb, then they emerge screaming, hungry and needing changing.

They loudly demand round-the-clock attention and your sleep goes out of the bedroom window, along with evenings out.

They reduce doting parents to jibbering wrecks who develop an idiotic new vocabulary of doo-doo, da-da baby speak and who panic at every rash, cough and fever.

Then it is wallets at the ready as mummy and daddy start to fork out on designer romper suits, pushchairs and jewellery. Why jewellery? Well, kids these days seem to get their first ear-piercing for their first birthday, then they have 17 in each lobe, and finally they come home with a pierced naval which screams of infection.

By eight, they will only accept designer clothes and shoes or they are shunned by their pals. In their teens they turn surly, drink too much, terrorise pensioners and have friends round to wreck your place while you are down the pub.

Just when you have re-mortgaged your home to pay for their wedding and you can enjoy some peace and quiet, they have kids of their own and the whole thing starts again. Only this time you are older, less immune to the noise and you want to get on with enjoying your own second childhood.

More Christmas and birthday presents, more weekends disappear as you travel to the ends of the earth to bounce grandchildren and revert back to that doo-doo, da-da drivel.

So in this futuristic, computerised world where virtually anything can be created in virtual reality, why not virtual kids?

Remember those electronic pet gadgets, tamagotchis, a few years ago? You had to remember to feed and pet them regularly or they died (electronically speaking).

Well, things have moved on and we can surely create the kiddie-gotchi.

With a fiendishly clever computer program, busy designer parents could choose the features of their ideal infant and give birth by microchip without all the pain and hardship. They could mother the on-screen child whenever they had the time or inclination - and simply turn him off when they didn't.

After a hard day at the office and cocktails on the way home, caring mums and dads would switch on the computer and spend ten minutes with their little darling. Virtual nappies, virtual apple-and-venison baby meals and electronic rusks, no mess.

Mum need never crease her Chanel frock dangling the kid on her hip, dad needn't have to strain his back strapping son in the car seat, just sit back and watch him grow on screen.

You control the child's development by manipulating the computer - you decide how tall or curvy, handsome or beautiful the child will be. You decide how well he or she will do in the school sports or GCSEs; you pick a university degree and award honours, and you choose their career path.

If you fancy a weekend or fortnight away, no need to take little Virtual Victor with you, just keep an eye on the sweetheart from an Internet caf. You don't need to show pictures to relatives or friends - they can also watch him grow on the worldwide web, even bounce him on their virtual knee if they want to, though he is jealously guarded by a net nannie.

Think of the heartache you have saved yourself, think of the cash. The perfect child who never misbehaves or answers back, never gets ill, is destined for a life of success and doesn't cost you a penny apart from the initial outlay on the Have A Cyber Baby software.

If you like, you can pay for a program add-on later and create grandchildren. You can visit them whenever you feel like it without leaving your home.

Sounds perfect, doesn't it? I'm also working on a Create The Perfect Wife program.

This may take some time because my imagination keeps running away with me, and the real She Who Must Be Obeyed keeps asking why I have such a silly, lascivious grin on my face while I'm sitting at the computer.

Updated: 10:03 Tuesday, June 08, 2004