About ten years ago, when the boy child was five or six, we were driving through the part of town that’s traditionally been home to strip clubs and sex workers.
Out of nowhere, the boy-child says “are we in the red light district?”
“Er” … My brain’s going crazy trying to figure out ‘what does he know?’ ‘How am I going to handle this?’
“Why do you ask that sweetie?”
“Cos the traffic lights are always red through here.”
I’m counting down to my son’s sixteenth birthday. Here’s what’s gone before: