I WARNED him so you can't accuse me of being harsh.

As he dangled the remote control over our small balcony I repeatedly told him of the consequences. "If you drop that," I bellowed. "I'm locking you out."

Seconds later it was in freefall. Like a hapless skydiver without parachute, it bulleted towards the hard ground. When the two met it was spectacular, spraying parts of black plastic and rubber numbers across the car park.

Devil Child just laughed. Until, that is, I slammed the patio doors shut, feigned locking it (the key was upstairs) and dramatically pulled across the blinds to complete his ex-communication.

The Devil Child is my three-year-old nephew. When I first started this column some 18 months ago, he was introduced as the Golden Boy. In the eyes of his parents and his grandparents (my Folks) he could do no wrong.

Every facial expression was looked on with wonder, each utterance profound. His "brilliant" - their word, not mine - behaviour meant he overshadowed his younger brother, the Mite, and of course me. Until he was born I was the baby of the family, and although well into my late 20s when he arrived, was still looked upon as so by the rest of the family.

Golden Boy spoiled all that.

But patience is a virtue and how things have changed.

At three-and-three-quarters, the Golden Boy is not the star of the show. As his novelty wore off, the balance of power shifted to the Mite, whose wide-eyed wonderment of the world has won him an army of fans.

As the Second Child, he stayed quietly in the background and has now come into his own, getting the attention he fully deserves. As a Second Child myself, I bear him no resentment and am guilty of fawning over him much more than his brother. In him I see me and I am the first to champion his cause.

But as a result of this shift, the Golden Boy has transformed. He has shed his skin and changed beyond recognition into something much more sinister -- Devil Child.

His behaviour is far from "brilliant" nowadays. The dropping of my remote control (which, as luck would have it, was for a video I no longer have) is typical of his boorish antics. Health experts -- well Dr Miriam Stoppard at least -- say we shouldn't be so quick to punish. She says the first child feels displaced and threatened by the second, leading to what is tantamount to a rebellion.

Dr Stoppard even goes as far to suggest that extra efforts should be made to be nice to the devilish one. And not lock him outside with the blinds drawn.

Last weekend his mum, my Big Sis, brought the kids to stay, where the Long Suffering Marjorie and myself got the full-on Devil Child treatment. Usually they "pop-up" for an hour and last Saturday was the longest I have ever spent with them. It was hard work.

The Mite was pleasure personified. He toddled around, picking things up before rushing over to drop it in your lap, his infectious laughter booming around the room. Devil Child just ran riot. He spat out half-eaten Smarties into the Ikea rug and rubbed them in. He opened bags of crisps and poured them across the kitchen before finishing off with his party piece with my remote control.

The Big Sis thought my locking him outside was a bit extreme, but like I said at the start, he was warned. And anyway a bit of unnecessary, over-the-top punishment never did anybody any harm.

The visit was of great benefit, however. At pushing 30, I often wonder what stage my life is at and what the next step should be. After this weekend I know where it's not going -- into parenthood!