Aitch is very impressed with the fact that he is now Six, and he expects you to be impressed, too. He is continually buttonholing (took me a few minutes to light on that, after rejecting pigeon-holing? Punch-holing?Corn-holing?) people with the information: “Did you know, I’m Six now?” Happily for him, they tend to respond with the required shock and awe: “What? No way! You’re Six? That’s wonderful!” etc.

Sometimes, though, there is no one of Aitch’s acquaintance in the vicinity, and he resorts to impressing strangers. His modus operandi is to sidle up to a random person on the street; turn to me, all faux-casual, remarking loudly, “You know, now that I’m SIX…”; and then look for the stranger’s gobsmacked reaction, as if he had said, “My Super Bowl ring is pinching me today,” or “This is the exact shade of blue my helicopter is painted.”

This has only worked once, on a teenage girl who was disposed to look kindly on small children. The rest of the time, sadly, he has been ignored. They say that intermittent reinforcement is the most powerful, though. I expect he’ll continue to try until he’s Seven.