I realise more and more how complex the English language is from speaking to Dorje. Having a Xhosa nanny, getting the genders right is an ongoing struggle. I don’t know how many times I’ve corrected things like The man, she said. I try and do it subtly, not harshly telling him he’s wrong like a schoolteacher. I usually repeat the sentence with the correct grammar, but then I run into the difference between I and you, and the conjugation of the verbs. So I usually have to find an excuse to repeat the sentence from the same grammatical point of view.

I can see the outcome. Either Dorje will be a grammar nazi, like me (I remember stubbornly saying yes instead of ja like the cool kids, at age 7 or so, just because it was right ), or the opposite, making the impression of a rapper in the Oxford English department.

There are times when I just want to give up. I’m pressing softly says Dorje, as he sticks the fork in my skin. Now I’m pressing hardly he says, poking the fork into my skin with a vengeance. Trying to explain is just too much – bloody English grammar.