That's right: A sibling for Tibbons is on his/her way

Following last week's column, I should declare I have a vested interest in the subject of pregnant women. I am one, once more.

That's right. Tibbons is getting a sibling.

We've reached the hallowed 12-week ground, so we have slowly been telling family and friends.

They've all been making the right noises, but a couple have gone beyond polite curiosity about dates, and so on, and have "kindly" informed me they're actively hoping we have a girl. One person has stated it as a fact.

I am excited by the prospect of either sex, but this insistence that a girl would somehow be better than a(nother) boy is almost enough for me to develop a strong preference for the latter. Almost...except I really am happy either way.

So what's different for them?

Maybe it's because Tibbons is such a top character that they feel no other boy could match him. Or perhaps they're subscribers to the old adage that 'variety is the spice of life'. (Incidentally, they're obviously not followers of the 'keep your opinions to yourself' rule-of-thumb. Shame).

I didn't ask them what they thought or what they wanted me to have; it's not like choosing a meal at a restaurant. We're having a baby; we'll get what we get.

And what difference does it really make anyway? One can pee fairly accurately standing up (eventually), while the other might struggle to. But both would be individuals in their own right, gender aside.

So, one more to add to the list of principles for interacting with pregnant women: don't venture opinions or preferences about the sex of their baby.

Now, I just need to leave this out somewhere conspicuous next time they come round. If they get another invite.