Middle child? No worries.

Heaven when you're seven

If there is no large kitchen utensil in sight, he will clip a peg to a chopstick and rave with that all afternoon.

When I’m in the middle of cooking, I frequently find that my favourite fish slice has gone missing. I reach for my second-favourite fish slice and that’s gone too. When I’m trying to serve a soup, the ladle is never hanging from its hook. I bought a back-up one in Ikea, and that too wanders off. And I NEVER have enough clothes pegs to hang the washing out.

And why? Well, it’s all to do with my middle child. He’s a good-natured and undemanding soul but he has a curious obsession with kitchen utensils. Whenever there isn’t anything immediately obvious to do, and the other children are noisily making their needs known, he will settle down with a spatula and wave it in front of his face for hours. He will circle and whoosh it about while making rocket or motorbike noises, oblivious to whatever else is going on. If there is no large kitchen tool in sight, he will clip a peg to a wooden spoon or a chopstick and rave with that all afternoon.

It seems an odd thing for a 7-year-old to do, but given that he seems happy doing it, we just let him get on. After all, we have a 3-year-old screeching for her sparkly hairclip and a 10-year-old begging to go on YouTube, both threatening to explode at all times.

It’s as if he has a special “sleep mode”- the equivalent of that trippy shapes screensaver - for when the world gets a bit too much. It’s probably his way to self-soothe and cope with everyday life in the middle of a family full of noisy stress-heads.

But I do worry about this boy who never causes any trouble, who seems to weather the family storms so calmly. I have a slight tinge of fear that one day he is going to put the spatula down and shout “WHAT ABOUT ME?” and stab everyone to death/smoke lethal amounts of spice.

But I don’t worry about him that much. Because the minute I start worrying about his odd habits, his inability to do sums or swim in a straight line, I’m worrying about the other two. It’s as if I have to diary-in my worry slot for the middle child. I’ve penned in 3am to 4am most mornings. Even then, the older boy's peanut allergy can appear through the mists, begging for a look-in. Don't forget me...I'm potentially FATAL.

Occasionally, the middle boy will draw a filthy comic book, complete with leaking boobs and swearing – which is his quiet attempt to cause outrage, but unfortunately my only reaction is to praise him on his rendition of the female form. I was secretly proud when he called his brother a “mo*herf**ker’ after a particularly nasty theft of some Lego. You say it like it is, I thought, as I pretended not to hear. Please don't judge too much. We live in East London.

Psychologists have said that parents shouldn’t worry that they don’t give enough attention to their middle child, because they develop skills, resilient personalities and career success precisely because they are not the centre of our attention.

Let’s hope they are right.