A small blonde girl, with a wonderfully solemn expression, is delivering a catalogue of things she's been told to do - or not do, ever - by the adults in her life. From time to time, the audience laughs and it's hard to know if it is masking embarrassment. We've probably all handed down these very diktats, like additional commandments from on high, to youngsters we've known. But having them spooled back like this renders some of the "awful warnings" faintly pompous; even ridiculous. Is this how children see us?

It could be, though, that our laughter is by way of recognition: that the child's litany, along with the text chorused by her youthful companions, stirs memories of our own early learning, when parents spoon-fed us a rigmarole of hard facts and half-truths, cautionary tales and heartfelt reassurances as they tried to equip us for a future, a world beyond the familiar home patch, that was well beyond their control. Listening, we learned the part of "the child" - only to pass on the role, and the self-same lines, to the next generation.

And there they are: 16 of them, aged between eight and 14, lined up on stage in what looks like a school gym (complete with wall bars) - but with no teacher to outlaw any clambering. Instead, in this funny, affecting but astutely unsentimental production, directed by Tim Etchells for the Ghent-based company Victoria, the group work through a far-ranging roll-call of "you tell us " and "you give us " observations that cunningly piece together the loving concerns and conflicts of will that characterise the parent-child relationship - everything from exasperated breakfast-time cries of "will you get up?" to goodnight hugs and stories.