Pär sat on the couch so he could hold Jeremiah stretched out on his lap looking straight at him, with the baby's feet planted on his stomach and the head resting against his knees.

"Good morning, Tot!" said Pär. Jeremiah smiled widely at him and waved his arms around. "Tot, say something."

Pär and I spoke in unison. "Say 'agoo'."

Tot maintained his peaceful silence.

"He's just having a quiet morning," I said.

"Tot, say 'Hello. I am the operator of this nuclear power plant.'"

"Nuclear power plant? What's that from?"

"Nothing. I just want him to say it."

Tot continued to smile at Pär and quietly move his hands around.

"He's not the operator of a nuclear power plant. Why are you encouraging him to lie?"

"It's not lying, it's acting."

"It's lying!"

"Are you saying that all actors are liars?"

"Of course they are. That's okay because it's an acknowledged, consensual lie. But if Tot started telling people he was the operator of a nuclear power plant, they might believe him. So he shouldn't be saying it."

Ignoring me, Pär spoke again to the baby. "'Hello! I am the operator of this nuclear power plant.' Come on, Tot."

"He's not going to do it."

"Oh! I know, how about this!" He enunciated clearly to the smiling Jeremiah. "'Allo! I am ze operatore of zis French nuclear power plant.'"

"He'll never be able to manage that fake accent," I began. "Nobody's going to believe he's French..." Then I realised: this was Pär's answer to the problem of our baby being too believable as a non-French nuclear plant operator.

"'Allo!' Come on, Tot, speak up. 'Allo! I am ze operatore of zis French nuclear power plant.'"

As I write this, I can hear them in the front room. Pär is chatting to the baby and singing to him, mangling Abba lyrics. Tot is responding with a bit more talk now.

He's saying 'agoo'.