Can someone answer me this seemingly age-old child-rearing question? Why is it that children (namely, my son) can be in possession of the equivalent of a department store full of toys, yet has spent the whole day long deigning it necessary to amuse himself with all matter of taboo items? It makes you wonder why you have spent a small fortune amassing such a vast array of colourful, creative (and lets face it quite noisy) playthings when it is quite simply anything I have prohibited him from playing with that offers most appeal.

Lets see what’s taken his fancy so far today:

• My exorbitantly expensive face moisturising cream
• The TV remotes (although we have given him one of his own that I am certain he has sensed does not work and therefore has ditched it in favour of pressing a medley of buttons on the ones that do actually operate!)
• The switch to turn off the deep freeze (which he kindly defrosted without our knowledge a few weeks back and thankfully, was in a rare, almost empty state)
• The stereo and all its gloriously fascinating buttons
• Wii Fit console and remote (who knew switching it on and off could prove such a riveting delight?)
• Our collection of DVD’s (quite fashionable as Frisbees, he will have you know)
• My Mobile phone (which obviously tastes so good, seeming as it always went stright in his mouth)

• The PC mouse (which I think he also thinks is a mobile phone)
• My handbag, and all its contents, including, in particular, my wallet, ipod, perfume and security pass for work…

On and on and on the list goes…. And if you are wondering, no, these items do not lay in wait on the ground, glistening in anticipation to be played with. Instead they are all in their place, yet my sticky fingered son still seems to be able to worm his way into reaching them and, like lightening, attempts to make them his own.

Honestly, Harrison is a one man hurricane, tearing through my house and making it his daily mission to up end any shred of shipshape order I’d like to kid myself that it has. Oh yes, my days of being able to keep an organised home evaporated at about the same time the first twinge of labour set in.

When I mentioned to the Early Childhood Nurse at Harrison’s 1yr old check up, that my son appeared to have a penchant for playing with all things forbidden, her solution was to remove every single item from reach. Handy – IN THEORY! Whilst in reality (where I reside) I knew that this would not make life easier. For one, where does one store all items under the measure of 75 cms that suddenly have to be culled from overly curious hands? And also, enlighten me as to what happens when you want to visit other people’s places? Call in advance and advise that as you are your rather rambunctious son are about to arrive, that a swoop of all things illegally enticing to a one year old please be removed from sight and then lovingly restored to their home upon our departure? Invitations out would certainly dry up.

No, much more sensible, albeit stressful at present, is the path that we teach our son the difference between right and wrong, ours and his. Yes, guffaw at my naivety if you will, but we are intent on our mission and live in hope that one day soon the message starts to sink in… Til then, if you are looking for me, I’ll be the one possessively patrolling the borders of my prized belongings…