Two dads and a twio of mums Today's edition of Call Me Old-Fashioned comes from Surrey, where a gay couple are expecting three babies by three different surrogate mothers within seven months of each other. I'm sorry, I'll just read that again. No, I was right first time. Two homosexuals have hired three women they found on the internet to produce three children for them. They have already dubbed the babies: the "twiplets." Fatherhood: Daryl Lee, 41, (left) and Luke Harris, 50, (right) from Surrey, are to become parents to three children by three women they met via surrogacy websites Surrogates: Becky Harris (right), Bex Harris (centre) and Viktoria Ellis (top left) with their neighbour Jemma King (top right) and Bex's mother Karen (left) appeared on ITV's This Morning in July to talk about surrogacy It helps if you pronounce twiplets with a rasping lisp, like the celebrated Sixties comedian Freddie "Parrot Face" Davies. Only then can you grasp the absurdity of this bizarre, mercenary arrangement, which is being hailed as an "amazing world first." This is the crazy world we live in today. Not so long ago a "world first" for Britain would have been the invention of the jet engine or the hovercraft. Now it's born-to-order test-tube twiplets with two gay fathers and three this-womb's-for-hire mothers. Luke Harris, 50, and Daryl Lee, 41, joined several surrogacy websites before they decided to engage 32-year-old Becky Harris (no relation), a professional surrogate mother. Unfortunately, Becky had already agreed to have a baby for someone else, so she put them in touch with her former sister-in-law Bex Harris. A few days later, Bex (not to be confused with Becky) passed them on to her best friend Viktoria (with a "k") who was also looking to become a surrogate. Still with me? Helping others: Becky, who appeared in the show before giving birth to her third surrogate child, told the programme that she 'loves being pregnant' Anyway, to cut a long story short, Becky (not Bex) had her baby and then decided she wanted in on the act, after all. So she agreed to have a baby for Luke and Daryl, too. The women will each be paid "expenses" of £15,000 for their services and the happy couple will take delivery of the three babies between January and July next year. Luke and Daryl describe the whole process as "very much like dating." No, it isn't. There's no dinner and a movie involved. No champagne and flowers or light foreplay. This is a commercial transaction for the gratification of five adults. What we're dealing with here is children as commodities. For the record, I have no problem with surrogacy, which has helped countless married couples who would otherwise be childless. I've written in favour of gay civil partnerships since before it was fashionable. And if they want to call it "marriage" it's fine with me, provided it isn't used to persecute those with sincerely-held religious beliefs. Which, of course, it is. I'm fairly relaxed about gay foster parents, too, if there's no alternative available. But I still believe that children are best brought up by a man and a woman. I know we're all meant to be "inclusive" and are legally obliged to celebrate "diversity" at all times, but I have to confess I'm not comfortable with the recent phenomenon of homosexual couples buying babies to order. Nor, I suspect, are the vast majority of people in this country, even though they are cowed into keeping their opinions to themselves. But, as Tony Soprano used to observe: whatcha gonna do about it? This menage-a-cinq, however, is a bridge too far. Frankly, I find the whole set-up disgusting. If you want the full gory details, you'll find them elsewhere in today's Daily Mail. But it appears that one of the babies is "biologically" Luke's and the other two are down to Daryl. There hasn't been anything like it since Trigger, on Only Fools And Horses, revealed that on his birth certificate under "Father's Name," it read: "Some soldiers." Mothers: The couple met Becky Harris (left) online, and because she was already helping another couple have a child, she put them in touch with her former sister-in-law Bex Harris (right) Has no one stopped to consider what the twiplets are going to make of it when they get older? Shouldn't have thought so for a moment. This is about what's good for the adults, not for the children. It's part of the depressing modern trend towards treating children as fashion accessories, like the latest handbag or breed of designer dog. This story first appeared in yesterday's Sun newspaper, complete with pictures of the beaming proud parents, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. We've come a long way since the Sun could put the headline "Pulpit Poofters" on a piece about gay vicars. But even so. Not that long ago, this would have been a job for social services and, probably, the police. Perhaps this is all part of the post-Leveson settlement and the newspapers will soon be full of admiring articles about legions of twiplets being born to conga lines of consenting adults cashing in on their reproductive rights. Call me old-fashioned, but if this is inclusivity, include me out. The trend for grown men and women roaming the streets in fancy dress is getting completely out of hand. It started with an outbreak of Oompa Loompas in Norfolk and has now spread across the country. Recently, I brought you news of a punch-up in Manchester involving a stag party wearing Where's Wally? costumes. That followed the mass brawl at a Star Wars convention in Norwich. A couple of days later, Devon and Cornwall Police released details of more than 30 crimes committed by people in fancy dress, including a drunken Jesus, a Cat Woman and a Super Mario. Most of the action seems to have shifted to Devon lately. There must be something in the water down there. In the latest incident, a couple in Halloween costumes were interrupted while having sex in a mother-and-baby changing room at a public toilet in Dawlish. Who said romance was dead? The man was dressed as Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, and the woman was completely naked, although she had earlier been spotted wearing a leprechaun outfit in a nearby pub. They were discovered by a mother and her three-year-old daughter, who reported the matter to the police. No criminal charges have been brought but "strong words of advice have been administered" according to a female Community Support Officer who spoke to Mail Online. Well, we're assuming she was a police officer but, then again, how do we know she wasn't a strippagram...? Nothing's too good for the workers Hampstead's on my way home from town and I recognised the spot they were carrying out their "vox pops." I once stopped off there to buy a loaf of bread from the patisserie. It was late and there was only one loaf left. I gave the assistant a fiver, expecting around £3.50 in change. She looked at me, sniffily, and said: "That'll be £7.60 please." For one loaf? That's Hampstead socialism for you. Nothing's too good for the workers. Meanwhile, film of Miliband leaving his home showed the front of it hidden by scaffolding. Perhaps he's having the top floor taken away so he won't have to pay the mansion tax. Or maybe it's a scaffold. Ignore these selfish bosses I've never been able to take the CBI seriously. When I was a young industrial correspondent, they monstered Mrs Thatcher's economic reforms, which - like Bob Hoskins in the Long Good Friday - put money in all their pockets, even when they was out of order. And they were all for joining the euro. Their only interest is not what's best for Britain, but what's best for them in the short term. They stubbornly support mass immigration because cheap foreign labour cuts their overheads. The impact on wider society doesn't worry them in the slightest. I can remember a CBI conference in Glasgow 30-odd years ago, during which the then boss of the Dunlop rubber company danced on stage wearing a kilt and banged the drum for British business. A few days later he sold the company to the Japanese. Carry on clowning, doctor A health charity is suggesting hiring some circus clowns to perform in hospitals to distract children being given injections. Why stop there? How about women dressed up like Barbara Windsor in Carry On Doctor to take men's minds off operations? And while they're at it, they could ask the Chippendales to perform the Full Monty in delivery rooms to help women through childbirth. Although, on second thoughts, I would imagine that's precisely what women about to give birth would least like to see. Thanks for all your emails advising me on the best way of getting rid of the badger which has been digging up my back garden. Ann Moulton writes to say that putting out peanut butter sandwiches will persuade badgers to leave the lawn alone. Jane O'Sullivan swears by rags soaked in Jeyes cleaning fluid. And Arthur Budd recommends scattering dried lion droppings. Where do you buy lion poo? I somehow don't see myself schlepping home from London Zoo with a sack of lion dung slung over my shoulder. Mind you, I never thought I'd end up making peanut butter sarnies for a badger...