Babies without maybes

Boy or girl? You choose. From today, you might be able to. A report due out today is expected to allow fertility clinics to help couples choose the sex of their baby. Not for medical reasons; for inherited illnesses - which would be wonderful - but just, well, just because you fancy having a daughter rather than a son, or the other way round.

Would you really want to choose?

For some parents, it could be a godsend, literally a lifesaver. But for the rest of us, it might be a choice too far.

How many of us would be here now if our parents could have chosen otherwise?

Not me, for a start. My father already had one daughter and I was always going to Robert Ian, so was a bit of a let down from the very beginning really. A large chunk of the population of India wouldn't be here. Nor, I'm afraid, would a lot of daughters of the nobility - especially if they didn't already have an older brother or two.

But what really frightens me is that we might not have had Smaller Son. Gulp. With one strapping lad already, and given free choice, we might have opted for a daughter. She might well have been lovely, but it's impossible to consider life without the boy we actually had.

And where will it end?

If you can choose to have the "right" sex, can you then choose to have an abortion if it turns out to be wrong? It's a very slippery slope we could be sliding down.

But there is hope. Many people could be told the sex of their baby long before it's born. For some, it's important - those genetic diseases again. For a handful of others - usually the sort who spend nine months getting the designers in to do the nursery and just must have the right colours - it's a matter of great interest.

But most people - even though the information is there - just don't want to know. We are happy to get what we're given as long as the baby's fit and healthy.

When you think about it, the sex of our babies is one of nature's great balancing acts. Even if individual families have entire football teams of boys or girls, the numbers overall still pretty much even up. Boy or girl is also one of nature's nicer surprises. And most of us - whatever today's report says - will be happy to keep it that way.

Milburn's misunderstanding

NICE man Alan Milburn. Pity he's so muddled. As the only Government minister who's resigned to "spend more time with the family" and has actually done so, he seems far more content. What's more, distance has lent a bit of perspective to his viewpoint and he can actually see the wood for the trees.

Most of the time.

In an interview at the weekend, he was waxing lyrical about family life. "It's the little things that are the best, " he said, talking about school assemblies, playing football, family meals. And no one would argue with that.

"If you're forced to choose between your career and your family, it's not much of a contest." Well, no. But in the next breath, he's arguing for billions of pounds worth of childcare - so more people can go back to work sooner and leave their children in state funded nurseries.

Excuse me? What happened to those little every day things of life?

If there are billions of pounds for the family sloshing round in Government funds, then why not give a decent increase in child benefit to parents of under fives?

Those who want to go back to work can use the money towards childcare provision. And those who wish to stay at home with their young children might find it easier to do so. Or are even the simple joys of family life only for the rich and privileged?

Why we should respect the Royals

THE Royal Family is not having a good press at the moment. (Though it might have only itself to blame. Faced with an alleged psychotic alcoholic, would you give him a job? ) But for one thing, at least, it deserves our respect and admiration - its sheer physical bravery.

President Bush is coming to London. The big man from cowboy country is not riding in on a lone horse but coming with a full squad of security and protection officers. He has said he won't do as other heads of state have done and ride down the Mall in an open carriage - much too dangerous.

And police are apparently going to block off half the West End to keep him safe.

Well, yes. Given the state of the world, the attitude to America and the number of nutters out there, it's all probably very sensible. But the Queen's quite happy to drive through the city in an open carriage, even though Prince Charles' uncle and cousins were blown up by the IRA. All the time the IRA was putting bombs in bins and attacking civilians and women and children, the Royals were prime targets. Yet they still went - and still go - out and about, putting themselves on public display, going walkabouts among excited crowds and even wearing nice, brightly-coloured clothes so we can see them more easily.

Tiny pop stars - who no one would notice anyway - don't feel safe unless accompanied everywhere by about 30 stones of big, black bodyguard. But the Royals in general, and the Queen in particular, put themselves on show with a few discreet detectives and a nicely brought up lady in waiting to carry the flowers.

And in these dangerous days, for that, at least, they deserve our respect.

STUDENT Lydia Nash won £16,000 on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? and gave it all away to an orphanage in Thailand, where she worked in her gap year.

She felt that her prize had been money for nothing and so cheerfully gave it away. And when spoilt superstars and overpaid sports professionals read that story, I hope that they felt a little ashamed - and reached for their chequebooks.

COCOA is the latest wonder drink. Apparently, it can help prevent cancer and keeps the skin looking younger.

Maybe. But: "Come back to my place for a cup of cocoa," doesn't exactly send the hormones racing, does it?

THERE'S not much romance in pop songs any more, says new research. Today's offerings are more about sex and aggression than love and romance. (If you can't understand the words, be grateful, because, believe me, you really don't want to hear most of them.)

Which poses a problem for the future.

Most of us have a song rich in sentiment and nostalgia, "our" song.

So in the retirement homes of the future, when toothless old couples are celebrating their 70th wedding anniversaries, will they hold hands and sing quietly "Silver hairs among the gold," or "I'll be with you in apple blossom time," or even "Love, love me do."

Or will the old man lean across to his grey-haired wife and murmur romantically: "Slap me up, bitch."

Time for a re-think maybe.