This dim little photo tells you pretty much all you need to know about our family outing to see NIN at the O2 arena in London on Wednesday night. I'll fill in the detail.

It's us, standing peacefully at the back of the arena. The Jenklett, slung snugly on G with earplugs in, bopping away. Moonbat, the Jenklett's freaky, fluffy thing we secretly rather dislike. The closest person to us - standing peacefully about two metres away. I'm taking the photo, having stood up momentarily from my little portable seat, surrounded by empty space. The only thing you can't see is that we are stood adjacent to a main exit, within waddling distance of the toilets, a food bar and lots of quiet space outside. You can also see how packed and frantic the seated rows are, rising up towards the full height of the arena. As is normally the case, everyone in the seats is stood up anyhow, dancing wildly. 

However, all of this detail is somewhat irrelevant to the story, as both our tickets and the terms and conditions email we received simply stated "all ages, standing". This wonderfully inclusive state of affairs was confirmed by the O2 arena when we called to check. Twice. Their standing space was, in my mind, a great big generational melting pot, equally unhindered by any other divisive rules regarding, say, dress code, or physical appearance.

Until we actually tried to access the standing area. Despite the official (and legal) policy, five members of staff took it upon themselves to decide on our behalf that standing was too dangerous for a pregnant woman - as well as a small child in arms. They wanted us to take seats (which really would have given me health and safety concerns) or leave. The most irritating aspect of this whole debacle was that three members of staff ignored me completely and debated my pregnant status with G as though I was an incompetent. Comments such as:

"I'm only thinking of her safety..."

"She's pregnant, I just can't take the risk."

"People do mosh in these types of concerts. What if you don't stand at the back? You might get knocked over."

"Pregnant women have to sit down; and especially, you know, well..." (Gesturing at various tattooed, booted and corseted individuals - none of whom were anything other than utterly friendly, respectful and interested in us, as has always been our experience).

"I just couldn't live with myself if something happened..."

finally prompted me to explain that, although heavily pregnant, I was able to:

• conduct a rational conversation with other human beings;
• think, conduct risk assessments and (within the confines of their own entry policy) take responsibility for my own health and safety and that of my family; and
• make far more considered decisions than she, by virtue of actually knowing myself and my little girl.

At which point the steward in question finally turned to me directly and shouted, "Well I am sorry for CARING TOO MUCH!" before stomping off.

And that, I suppose, is the problem. People tend to think that if they are motivated by caring, then anything that they say or do is The Right Thing. But it is not acceptable for those stewards to act on their own personal prejudices and make decisions that far exceed that which they are required to do in accordance with venue policy. No matter how much they care.

Would they be willing to stop the man with a severe limp who was behind us in the queue? (Answer: they did not.)

I suspect it was simply the sight of a heavily pregnant woman and a little girl with her Moonbat attending a rock concert that did not fit with the stewards' worldview of how things should be. It's just a shame we had to resort to knowing our facts inside out, having the evidence to hand, using a broken record technique, and being prepared to take legal action in order to have a safe, enjoyable time as a family. But maybe we should be getting used to that course of action. Next time it might be a local authority officer who does not share our worldview.