Halfway through our Sunday lunch of sausages and mash, Firstborn pipes up, "Mummy, Archie showed me his billy." "Oh?" I say, "that's nice, darling." Firstborn continues, "Mummy, why don't I have a billy?" Alpha Male asks, "What's a billy?" "No idea," I reply. "A billy, Mummy," Firstborn says, her voice loaded with scorn, "is what boys do a wee-wee out of. Don't you know that Mummy?"
It turns out that the highlight of my daughter's first week at nursery was being flashed at. It's a premonition of what the future holds.
Alpha Male is furious. "Little prick!" he bellows.
Never was a wiser word said.