Being British is an integral part of my identity. From Monty Python to EastEnders, baked beans on toast to a nice cup of tea solving all of life's woes, I am quintessentially English. And as much as I love Canadians, and moved here solely based on falling hard for one, in particular, I have no desire to become a Canadian. So it was with some trepidation that I realized shortly after the birth of my son, that this precious little man of mine, was a Canadian. At least, until he started talking.