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Tom with Katya (left) and Tonya

I can’t put it off any more. Or, given the subject matter : I can’t it anymore put off. The 'it' of course is the language. We’ve been in Germany now for more than five months and other than a cheery "Guten Tag" and a rather deft "Drei Croisanten und ein sechtskornbrot bitte" at our local Backery, my German remains as it was when I binned my second hand school copy of Sprich Mal Deutsch many years ago.

No, the time has come to tackle the language. Not merely because it’s the decent thing to do in a country who’s football is so infinitely inferior, but also because if I don’t I’ll end up with children who speak two more languages than me. Or should that be two more languages than I. How about two more languages than their father.

I say two more because my wife Alla is a Russian speaking Ukrainian. It therefore follows that our twins, Katerina and Antonina – will be bi-lingual. That, at any rate is how the rest of the world sees it. "How wonderful to grow up with two languages…. And perhaps while you’re in Germany they’ll pick up German as well.." Twins three – Daddy one.

The twins are now eighteen months old. Words are registering in their little minds and forming in their little mouths. The protuberance on Tonya’s face which appears to be in a state of permanent blockage is, when Daddy wipes away the offending gunge, a Nose. However when Mummy does the same it’s a Nos. And when a German lady at the Kinder Gruppe points at it and suggest to Daddy that it needs wiping it appears to be a Naza. When asked where Tonya’s Nos, nose or indeed Naza is she contentedly points at it and giggles.

Thus far Katya has chosen to opt out of the bi- or indeed tri-lingualism game favouring iggle-iggle-iggle-iggle. Her understanding, in both Russian and English, on the other hand is excellent and cannily selective. This is the bit that terrifies me. If they do become proficient in both Russian and English they’ll simply be able to close me out of a conversation at will. How humiliating will that be. Motivation enough, surely, to get beyond the basics of Russian, or at the very least Deutsch.

The plan, therefore, is to build slowly. The first phase I am into effect already putting. It is simply the verb at the end of the sentence to place. Then, when it comes to changing the words the sentence patterns will ready made. I’ve also mastered all the things that Germans are likely to say to a father pushing twins in a pram. First up…. Ah! Suss. Which either means ah, sweet or Hanoverians are a great deal less civil than I’ve been taking them for.

Invariably the next thing, and this is a real cultural marker, is the question – zwei Eigen? Two Eggs? It rather takes you back at first. There’s something very graphic about it. But the truth is it’s just an informed question. While we go for the more veiled ‘identical twins?’ They get right to the nitty gritty. One egg – identical; two eggs not.

After that it’s usually : 'Ein Junge und eine Madchen?' Which I don’t think has upset Tonya yet for it is she, as yet with limited hair, who is always thought to be the boy. Nein, Zwei Madchen, and I wheel on my suss way hearing any mother of a single child mutter a knowing viele arbeit. Hard work. Ja Gerne I reply. Da agrees Tonya. Iggle-iggle adds Katya. And so the three of us wheel along the Strasse of Hannover wondering if what we’ve just said has made any sort of sense to anyone.