AS I'M sure you’ve been dying to know, I was, in fact, the product of a home birth. Front bedroom of an Edwardian semi in Eccles, Northwest Manchester: a tatty old house in a war-damaged, seedy suburb of a city that had yet to be wrenched from its cloth-cap-and-twenty-No.6 existence by the forces of 1960's modernity or, as they’re more commonly known, The Beatles.

Sounds grotty, I know, but actually perfectly normal for its time. Not until the 70s did ladies begin routinely to be admitted to hospital to give birth to their little darlings, a trend driven by the risk-averse, state-must-take-responsibility ethos that crept into life as memories of the Second World War receded.

But now, being green and doing everything naturally is all the rage, home births are once again à la mode, and so is born One Last Push, the latest play from renowned writer Chris Chibnall. At the Salisbury Playhouse until March 9.

Young couple Jen and Mark are expecting the birth of their first child and, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, it’s going to be a home birth. They’ve got it all worked out: birth plan, playlist of soothing music, TENS machine and, of course, a birthing pool. Don’t think birthing pools had reached Eccles when I popped out but hey, that’s progress.

Now, when I tell you that One Last Push is a farce, you’ll realise that a birthing pool and a playlist alone do not great comedy make. So, step in Mark’s estranged father and his young girlfriend, Jen’s somewhat flighty mother, and an amiable neighbour devoid of social graces who is intent on trapping and killing a badger in their shared garden, and farcicality looms.

But here’s the thing. Whereas most farces rely on the misheard whisper and couples flitting through doors at appropriate and inappropriate moments, this one is built around sharply-drawn characters and some very witty writing. Put those together and what you get is something that is original, funny and clever, whilst gently poking fun at the Gen Z and Millennial Wokerati: comedy with purpose, if you like - not exactly conceptual farce so much as post-conceptional farce, but a welcome departure from the formulaic tosh that constitutes so much of the genre.

A comedy for our times, then, and highly recommended. Not sure if good old Eccles is quite ready for it yet, but anywhere else it’ll be a surefire hit.