Being the good, right-on parents Mummy and I try to be, we wanted to get something that was somewhat ‘educational’ and without all the flashing lights and beeping noises that would drive us mad within moments of the toy being in the house.

Then Mummy had a moment of inspiration: “Why don’t we get him some Lego?”

Lego was my favourite toy as a child, so I agreed that we should get some and handed Mummy my credit card without hesitation.

At 17-months-old, Golden Boy is close enough to the recommended age for Lego’s Duplo blocks, which are too big for him to stuff in his mouth and choke on, so we bought a big tub of them.

Lego is good for teaching children about shapes and colours and helps them to use their imagination, Mummy thought, all the while being fun to play with.

What she didn’t realise is that it would be me who would be getting the most enjoyment from them.

So my son would get an idea of what to do with Lego, I’ve shown him how to stick the blocks together to build little houses and animals and cars and whatnot.

While he’s not quite figured out how to construct things himself, he loves to dismantle my creations and politely asks me to build more for him to tear apart.

Now I get to spend hours reliving my childhood, dreaming up new architectural shapes and colour schemes for the buildings and towers Golden Boy destroys with glee while shouting, “Wreck it! Wreck it!’ as he hurls blocks across the living room.

It’ll be a couple of years before he’s ready for a Scalectrix set but I cannot wait.