Aeons ago, my friend Ann and I were lurking on the fringes of a D-list party. (So much more fun, incidentally, than an A-list bash: A-listers are roped off, but D-listers have to fend for themselves out among the plebs i.e. myself and Ann.)

I approached Michael, who smiled very charmingly at me. I said, as per the evil Ann's instructions, 'Michael, I want to thank you for all you've done for Irish dance.'
He put his mouth to my ear and whispered 'I love it when you talk dirty to me'.
See? Yewww.
“She saw that on a hall door”
Pure Dublin bitchiness, to be used if a woman lies about her age. When a botoxed, lifted, nipped, tucked and lipo-sucked actress claims to be twenty nine for the tenth year in a row, you can purse your lips, raise your eyebrows and hiss 'She saw that on a hall door', or, in other words 'the only time that particular lady sees the number 29 it is a house number on a front door, as she is undoubtedly older than that'.

This week Niamh, who's 6, handed her Daddy a note which read “I hav lovd you since I ws born”.
At some age we stop being quite so open about it, don't we? Shame.

