GENERALLY speaking, girls like to shop. For many of us the urge to visit retail emporia on a regular basis is hard-wired into our DNA. But while the weekly food shopping venture is technically shopping, it cannot exactly be classed as fun.

Quite apart from the utter dullness of supermarket shopping, and the fact most of the contents on the shopping list isn’t even stuff you are going to consume, there is also the hideous shock when you realise you have just spent £87...for the second time this week.

But before you even walk through the sliding doors, narrowly avoiding sampling some nasty chicken tikka reconstituted snack, you have to not only fend off the bucket-jangling, guilt-making charity workers, but also negotiate the car park.

Ah, the supermarket car park. Chaos, at the best of times.

I am convinced that some people drive around supermarket car parks just to get some practice in before trying their hand on the dodgems.

Driving standards generally are pretty poor but there are three types of driver to avoid at all costs.

Any mother in a large car with small children in tow should be given a very wide berth.

I have been a mother with small children in a large car and to be honest I was a bit of a liability – in supermarket car parks AND elsewhere – so I am very aware of what they are up against.

However, I would urge them all to consider online shopping, if only to prevent more dents in their wings.

The other type of driver to be avoided is the reluctant lone male shopper.

With list in hand and fists clenched tightly around the trolley, the attached lone male shopper quite simply does not want to be in a supermarket at all.

Aggressive and with a grim reluctance to be there, the main focus is on his escape plans because he is under strict instructions from wifey to be back in time for the kids’ tea.

He has wearily fought his way round the aisles, battled with his conscience whether to splash out on a DVD and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and almost forgot the essential items on the list.

The single lone male shopper is easily spotted, clutching an armful of junk food and Stella, and he needs to get out of that car park quick because of that inevitable World Cup match.

He is distracted by the ambling yummy mummies, has one hand on the steering wheel and is also trying to stop his precious supplies from scattering across the floor of the car.

In short, the lone male shopper needs to remember supermarkets open 24 hours a day and therefore there is no need for him to be there when I am.