Out of the mouths of babes

WE WERE driving with our young son to London City Airport. He was quite impressed with my knowledge of the route and asked: ‘Dad, how do you know which turning to take?’ I pointed out the arrows underneath the planes on the airport signs. He then took it upon himself to offer directions: ‘Right, Dad, left,

Dad, left, Dad . . .’ All went well until we approached a roundabout where the directional sign pointed straight ahead, so he called out: ‘Up, Dad!’ This was said so confidently that for a moment I was almost inclined to haul back on the steering wheel in preparation for take-off.

G. Baulch, Cheadle, Cheshire.