A psychologist told me it is extremely common, that it is not a diagnosis, that it is a small self-soothing behaviour, and that the correct response is to do nothing whatsoever about it.

So I do nothing about it.

She is seven.

She will probably stop.

The hardest conversation I have had with either of my children was with Nora, at six, in a car, out of nowhere, in the way that these always arrive.

She said: “Mommy, why did we live at Arthur’s?”

And I said, “Because we needed somewhere to stay for a while.”

And she said, “Why?”