Yesterday morning, as I was taking Romilly to Debs’ house, she told me that she wasn’t “allowed to live in the awful tower”. Romilly told me that there was a picture that would explain what she meant.

As a paranoid parent, I’m always on the watch for language that might mean something else; something terrible.

So, arriving at Debs’ house, I asked if Romilly could show me this picture of the awful tower. Debs seemed amused, but I went in to see the cause of my daughter’s concern. Romilly raced into the living room to show me a set of construction photos of… the Eiffel Tower.

No Romilly, you can’t live in France.