It’s with great trepidation that I broach this subject. I’ve grappled with the worst, Neo-Nazis, Corbynites, and K-Pop fans, but there’s one group of people you learn never to mess with, who if maligned or disrespected, will hunt you down and make you suffer in ways you cannot imagine. I’m referring of course, to Jewish women, aka the Matriarchs.

I’m aware that even writing these words is enough to get the hackles up, for sleeves to be hitched in preparation of a pummelling — “What are you talking about, we are NOT intimidating!” — so I will do my best to tread lightly and beg for a reprieve. Hear me out.

With this half-term break spent in Cornwall, staying with three other Jewish families, a deep-seated fear of mine has been triggered, a dread born of the ever-swirling quagmire of what it means to be Jewish, and the extent to which this applies to our children.

We may be proud contributing members of our shul … all our boys are circumcised… our five children go to Jewish schools… our eldest is called Mordechai for goodness sake! Yet, my wife is a convert. Now sure, according to Jewish law, once someone’s converted, that’s it, for all intents and purposes they are a Jew. But is intent and purpose actually enough?

In some ways, like when it comes to confronting antisemitism and defending Israel, Monique punches above her weight in our little far-left enclave of Crouch End. But during this last week, in such close proximity to three ethnically Jewish women, it was all too obvious how lacking she is in one vital area, and how that may be damaging our kids’ development.

Oh, how to carefully choose my words here? Especially when aware that whilst this paper is meant as a conversation between ourselves, our enemies will use whatever they can against us. Let me just say, in code, that any time something happened with one of the other family’s children, getting momentarily lost, something broken, someone hurt, the maternal reactions would be somewhat, ‘heightened.’ And these women are known at the school gates as the more laidback Jewish mums. But even compared to them, and this is another way of saying it, it’s apparent how ‘easygoing’ Monique is.

“HEY WE’RE ALSO EASYGOING!” I know you are, sure, sure, whatever you say. I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.

I’ve always justified the necessity of marrying Monique, as this same trait is why she’s able to put up with me, and I figured her genes would be a welcome broadening to the Ashkenazi pool. But I’m terrified some of our children are also showing signs of being ‘easygoing.’ Last to choose and didn’t get the sandwich they want? It’s fine, no big deal. Don’t particularly want to play that game, but sure, I’ll join in. I mean, one of them just gets on with everybody and is the constant calm in the storm, it’s just not healthy. And it most certainly isn’t Jewish. We are a difficult people, that’s why God picked us. I sometimes look at my kids utterly baffled by how they seem so at ease. Why aren’t they questioning themselves into paralysis? Where’s the emotional flinching, awkward self-loathing and insecurity that were the comfort blankets of my own childhood? I blame the mother.

Moses of course had a similar problem. He married out with Zipporah, and hey, if it’s good enough for Moses right? Lucky Zipporah didn’t even have to do all the lessons, essays and Q&A before the Beth Din, proving yet again that it’s all about who you know. There’s a much debated episode in the Torah where God is about to kill Moses and Zipporah immediately circumcises her son with a flint which saves Moses. My personal interpretation is that this points to the importance of the mother, whatever her origins, in ensuring that the children are Jewish. And always keep some flint handy, just in case.

We’re taught that matrilineal decent is about ensuring Jewish heritage but what kind of message do the traditional reasons give to Jewish women? That their contribution is a biological failsafe against getting raped or having affairs. Where’s the agency in their children’s development? What if the real reason is that it’s the Jewish mother’s parenting style that ensures our survival? That their precise blend of coddling and criticism gives us our edge?

In our family there are signs of hope that it’s not too late. Sure Monique being a child psychotherapist means she’s constantly working against me, but our middle two are lucky enough to have each other to be traumatised by and show plenty of signs of being tricky customers. With the rest I’m just going to have to get stuck in and step up my game to facilitate their neurotic development. I’ve already had a bit of experience, working my magic these past 20 years on Monique. She’s definitely not as well-adjusted as when we first met, in fact, I’ve decided I had better not show her this column. Clearly she is a Jewish woman in the only way that matters after all.