Phil the window man

It may not be as catchy as Bob the Builder but Jennifer is obsessed with Phil the window man. He has visited our house three times. The first time she wasn't sure about him - clung to my legs, peered at him skeptically, didn't say a word. The second time was during a thunder storm and she was pretty excited to watch him dash about measuring the windows in the rain but still did not say a word.

The third time was a whole other story. It started when she realised the banging noise was the window man using a hammer. "I have a hammer," she says. "Yes, you do," I say. "Show him!" she insists. So off we go to show the window man Jennifer's hammer. He gets down on one knee, has a really good look at her little, yellow hammer and then helps her hold his. "Bit heavy," she says and takes the yellow one back.

A little while later she hears the drill. "I have a drill too!" she says. "You sure do," I say. "I'm going to show him." So off she goes, by herself this time. A few minutes later she runs back, "Mummy, mummy, the window man has two drills!"

This is pretty much how the morning continues. They compare hammers, drills, measuring tapes and even chisels. He told me the job would take five hours. He was here for closer to seven and I'm pretty sure at least an hour of that can be put down to his enthusiastic apprentice. Now she's on to teaching the boys.