Our GP's surgery is very good, and I managed to get the boy an appointment for this evening. The husband was able to attend the appointment too, so we both rocked up at the surgery prepared to hear the worst about the boy's Elvis impersonations.
Dexter was totally unaware of any parental angst, as demonstrated by today's #366 photo, taken in the surgery waiting room.
We ended up seeing one of the practice's GPs whom I haven't met before. She was really reassuring that Dexter's seemingly unique stance is not quite so unique after all, and apparently is perfectly normal. I'm still really grateful to nursery for paying such close attention to him and communicating so well with parents.
We celebrated our news (and a week without Ofsted - yes, I am still banging on about it), with a visit to our local pub for dinner. Dexter ate chips, I drank some wine, and we were still home by half past seven.