Well, I am sorry to say, I am about to break that promise because I just have to tell you about a string of embarrassing/hilarious incidents which have happened in the last week.

Before I do however, I would just like to warn those of you with a delicate constitution that the topic of this week's column is the male genitalia, so if you embarrass easily, don't read on.

First of all can I just ask: Why are men so fascinated by their "bits"? From a very early age they start fiddling and it seems that many of them never really out grow it.

You don't get girls doing such things while they are watching the TV, or even sitting down for a meal, do you?

But boys, they are completely different. It seems that they need very little excuse to have their hands down their trousers adjusting themselves, or whatever else it is they are doing.

And as if this wasn't bad enough they love talking about it too, and are completely fascinated by the size of the thing and what comes out of it.

A friend of mine told me her three-year-old son was caught in the toilets of his nursery with a few other boys the same age – comparing sizes! (They are three for goodness sake – how do they learn about such a thing?)

As far as I know my son has not done this yet, but we are beginning to hear rather a lot of conversations about it.

The other day he was play fighting with his daddy – this involves Samuel stripping down to his boxer shorts pretending to be the Incredible Hulk – when I heard a scream and Samuel shouting: "Ouch! Daddy, watch my crown jewels."

Of course, we just fell about laughing, and as this was an expression we had never used assumed it was something he had picked up from school.

Earlier this week things came to a head when I received a phone call from the school informing me that Samuel had "flashed" in the playground.

Now, in my son's defence it was an accident because he was trying to show his friends that he had put his Power Ranger swimming trunks on under his school shorts instead of his boxers, and had pulled down a few too many layers – but, as I am sure all you parents out there can understand, this did little to dampen my embarrassment.

Samuel was duly chastised and I thought this was the end of the matter.

But, oh! On Tuesday evening I went to pick him up from his after school club only to be told by the deputy manager that my son had been caught weeing outside. When, I asked him why on earth he would have done such a thing, he said: "I was trying to see how high I could shoot my wee. I got it over the fence, mummy!" – Charming.

I have a feeling this could be just the start of many incidents to come. . .