WHAT are you concerned about?" asked the receptionist when I telephoned to make an appointment for my younger son - Lucien, two - to see a speech therapist.

"Um," I cast about for an answer. "He is not clear in his pronunciation. And, compared to his elder brother at the same age, he doesn't seem to be talking as much or as well."

"Ah, I see. Lucien has some big shoes to fill," came the amused reply from the woman on the line.

I was grateful for her sense of humour, which helped put things in perspective for me.

For several months now, I had been worried that Lucien's speech was not developing properly. He often chattered on in his own made-up words, and had not come to the stage where he can always make himself understood to others.

Ask my 27-month-old, "What is your name?", and he would stare at you before repeating: "Your neem?"

And much of his vocabulary consisted of - or so we thought - Thomas And Friends engine names: "Tomuss" (Thomas), "Haary" (Henry) and "Piecey" (Percy).

Given that my elder son - Julian, now almost six years old - was speaking in clear, complex sentences before he was three, I couldn't really gauge if Lucien was within the normal parameters for children his age. What if I was just being paranoid? Surely there was nothing wrong with him?

Then again, what if it was something that had to be nipped in the bud?

To friends who did a double take when I told them I was taking Lucien to get his speech checked, I simply said it was for an evaluation, in case he needed early intervention. After all, prevention is better than cure.

In truth, I was looking to pick up tips on how to teach him better.

On the day of Lucien's speech-therapy appointment, our entire nuclear family turned up at the cheery, spacious clinic, which is filled with toys and child-sized furniture: The Supportive Spouse, myself, Julian, Lucien and our domestic helper.

The therapist asked us some questions about his health history and speaking habits so far.

Then she played a simple game with Lucien in which she gave him some blocks, but would allow him to pop them into a container only if he said: "Open, please."

After a few attempts, she succeeded in getting him to say the words, clear as a bell. This, from a boy who used to wail and bang about, or say "ahpaan" (open door) to indicate that he wanted access.

In the end, she concluded that he was developing normally for his age.

But he was being a little "lazy" in his speech, as we often let him get away with not articulating his words properly. Instead of correcting him, we tended to give him what he wanted, without him having to "work for it" by asking verbally.

Our therapist drew up an action plan for us: We are to spend 20 minutes every day, one-on-one with Lucien, with no distractions such as TV (or Julian).

During those sessions, we play games or do an activity that Lucien enjoys, and focus on getting him to "model" (the term for repeat after us) words.

Once he succeeds in saying the new words, we can "expand" - insert a new word into a sentence he knows. So, "I built a tower" can be expanded to "I built a tall tower".

We've been on the 20-minutes-a-day plan for a week now, and the results have been really encouraging.

Lucien speaks more clearly and is learning new words at a good clip.

It is as though something has clicked in him - connecting the dots that language and communication are important.

More importantly, I think therapy changed something within the Supportive Spouse and me.

We have realised how to hold Lucien's attention more efficiently and speak to him more.

This has opened up a whole new dimension. Not bad, for something that started out as a niggling, kiasu feeling.

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