Ned has changed into a boy boy. Although he happily ran around dressed as a Disney princess when Belle had her friend over yesterday he was adamant that he was actually a king. Today the Toys R Us catalogue arrived and I used it as a welcome excuse to cosy up to Ned and leaf through it. He hunted for anything involving cars, tractors, trains, dinosaurs, ambulances, rescues, pirates, drums, guitars…. and discarded the rest with a “Huh, too girly” disdain worthy of Just William himself. I don’t actually mind but I do look with amazement and wonder how this boy came from the same bloodline and practically the exact same environment as his pink-loving, ballet-twirling, princess-y sister. And it’s with relief that I realise that whatever instinct (or pressure? Except he hasn’t even started nursery yet) makes him focus on these typically male toys hasn’t also taught him that pink and purple are unacceptable favourite colours and that twirling and dancing are really for girls….

Today we were having a conversation about police officers over lunch - or rather, policemans. I tried to explain that they were policemen and in any case nowadays we would call them police officers because there could well be police ladies.

Ned: Me prefer police men.

Me: Is that because one day you’ll be a man?

Ned (conversationally): Me going to be rubbish man.

Me (concerned): Oh honey, I’m sure you won’t be.

Ned (indignantly): Yes me am. Me going to be rubbish man and drive me own rubbish lorry.