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One of the things I like about this little man is that he loves words. It’s a gift his parents have given him, both are cerebral wordsmiths who love reading. A gift that was given to our generation by our parents. His Grandad, our Dad, used to read to us every night before bed, winding his way through The Hobbit, Watership Downs, Rudyard Kipling and more. Occasionally he would nod off mid chapter, to be roused by us girls chorusing ‘More, more!’.

Ronin is two and he plans conversations in advance. Telling us what he is going to speak about on the way to visiting people. Like in the car on the way to see Grandad, he says ‘What you like for lunch Grandad?’ – practicing over and over before he gets there. He really likes having conversations.

I love words. They were my first love, and its endured. Photographs are one thing but words. And it is a joy watching him, and the rest of my tiny minions learn to love them. My other nephew Xavier spoke his first sentence the other day. Typical of his kooky personality it was hilarious; ‘That mine Ning Ning!’ he said of the car he had been riding around his Aunty Melody’s house. Ning Ning referring to the noise you make when driving said car. Niiiiiiiing Niiiiiiiiing. Niiiiiiiing Niiiiiiiiing.