Grandad wears girls' shoes and Daddy wears a burgle," said two year old, conspiratorially to Sara but within earshot of Tony.

We were all sitting in the park trying to keep an eye on various offspring, who appeared to have disappeared in various directions.

"A burgle?" queried Sara. She already knew about the girls' shoes, as she happened to be round at my house when father popped by, on the way home from a special shopping spree to Hove, which had resulted in purchase of girls shoes.

"Girls' shoes?" queried Tony, who presumably didn't know what a burgle was either but was more interested in the girls' shoes, having recently convinced himself that husband Thomas was a transvestite.

The latter because a) own eldest Rugrat appears to have more knowledge on subject than most five year olds and b) Tony had learnt about (a) a few minutes before he walked past our house, as Thomas emerged from under the bonnet of car to ask if he could borrow pair of my tights.

Tony didn't stick around long enough to discover that Thomas wanted them to mend the fan belt - so the confusion remained.

"They're pretty unisex really," I assured Tony, who was obviously now wondering whether the transvestite in the family was actually my father, hence the five-year-old's extensive (for her age) knowledge of the dressing habits of this particular group of men.

"But they're still girls' shoes," said Sara, enjoying my discomfort. "Well, women's actually."

"Well women's shoes ..." mused Thomas, obviously having heard of Well Women's clinics but never well women's shoes, especially as worn by men.

So I was forced to explain that mother had a pair of flat, definitely unisex looking, although, in fact, women's loafers, which could be worn either with the heels up, or trodden down, and that father had made trip to Brighton with specific aim of buying men's equivalent.

He had been thwarted in his attempts by fact that manufacturers don't make them for men.

"Because they're girlie?" asked Tony, a comment I ignored before going on to explain that, as father has quite small feet for a man, he was able to purchase instead the largest pair of women's shoes in the shop and so his trip was not entirely wasted.

So what's a burgle?" asked Sara, returning to the original statement of two year old, which had generated so much interest in the girls shoes my dad wears.

"She means a girdle," corrected eldest, never one to get her worlds muddled up, even if they are as long as transvestite.

"So your dad wears girls' shoes and their dad," said Tony, indicating Rugrats, "wears a girdle?"

They were enjoying themselves so much at the expense of the various (manly) men in my life that they barely listened to my explanation about the girdle.

This is, in fact, more of a 10in black leather belt, recommended by Thomas's doctor to help alleviate the back problems he has been suffering for several months.

"It's not as if it's some great lacy, boned, effeminate thing," I told them.

"No," Tony agreed. "But I expect it makes his waist look tiny, especially under a dress ..."