You do know about the birds and the bees, don’t you?

I LOVE men. That only became a problem for me when my seven-year-old daughter found out.

We were sitting at the kitchen table and she had drawn circles on the back of old Christmas paper with her pink marker and roll of celluloid tape, and I was busy filling them in. We were mapping out my future, using mind maps.

“You can’t say that,” she said, espying the first of my three entries in my life-convictions circle.