Firstly, he was acting the Big Man around the house. His sister dared to play with his Batcave, earning a What-you-talking-about-Willis pout (one for the older reader) and a solemn promise:
You touch that again, little girl, and I’ll slice you up!
Charming. Then he discussed his romantic potential with his Mum, the Duchess:
BW: Mummy, what happens if no one wants to be my wife, no one loves me?
D: Of course someone will want to be your wife. You’re a lovely, handsome man, with lots of friends. You’ll be fighting them off.
BW: Oh well, if no one wants me, I’ll be married to my job.
Where did he get that idea from? Finally, our little life planner was today thinking about our national obsession, brutally declaring:
Mummy, when you and Daddy die I’m going to live in your house.
Our little boy. All set to be a gun-slinging, property-owning workaholic.