Misapprehension

The end of summer has arrived. As the leaves start going yellow and brown, so do the Swedes, lapping up a skinful of sun in advance of the winter. The streets are full of tall, lithe, tanned blondes. It's like walking through streets populated by vanilla ice cream cones.

I knew that using the word 'willy' would come back to haunt me.

Potty training is still hit and miss, but the hits are slowly going up in number. I was only on the receiving end of one number one and two number twos this week (the latter both courtesy of C, of course, and both delivered pre-0600). "I weed on Daddy!" F announced in horror as we relaxed on the balcony last week.

"You did," I said, masking my equal horror with paternal calm. There wasn't much else to be said.

As a result of this, F is frequently found roaming round the house semi-clad. She can take trousers off and on now, a simple step up from knickers, and in the late summer swelter is quite proud of the ability. As all of us are no doubt aware, roaming around a house naked tends to lead to a certain amount of self-inspection. For me, this is a nervous glance at my gradually swelling paunch in the mirror as I hastily pass, anxious not to catch its eye. For F, it's the marvel of her genitals.

"This is my bottom," I heard her announce to V the other morning, somewhat inaccurately referring to the other side of herself. "Daddy doesn't. He has a funny bottom instead."

"Yes, that's right," V told her. "Boys have those."

"He bought it at Willys," F went on, "when he was little."

As a gag, this works best if you're Swedish and understand that Willys is a supermarket chain, so I apologise for botching it for everyone else. I'm very tired, what with rehearsals in a black box theatre all day and then immediately having to hit the dettol and floormop beat the minute I get home. The heat is disagreeing with me, I find myself staring out of the window and into the middle distance for long minutes, only to discover I'm facing the wrong way and gaping moronically at interior walls instead. I believe this is called introspection.