MY FRIEND has an air of innocence, which sits at odds with what happens when she opens her mouth. Double entendres come out of nowhere and I’m never quite sure how artless this double entendre business is, precisely.

WHEN your squalling, perfect fiends burst into your life demanding years of nurture, you hit the ground running and pretty much maintain that pace — give or take the odd sprint — for a couple of decades.

I’M STUFFING an onion up a chicken’s bottom. My husband’s sitting at the kitchen table, surfing for bike gadgets online and peeling potatoes.

I’M STUFFING an onion up a chicken’s bottom. My husband’s sitting at the kitchen table, surfing for bike gadgets online and peeling potatoes.

A FRIEND of mine — a strapping man even at his leanest — announces recently that he’s put on the bones of a stone.

I’M in the cinema with my husband.

A MAN comes down the aisle, munching chilli nuts and looking left and right.

MY HUSBAND came home once and pinned a piece of paper on the kitchen wall when my children were younger.

IT’S 6am and my husband tiptoes around our room in a Kerry B&B, careful not to wake me.

I KNOW a lady, in her eighties now, who used to take to the bed from time to time, when her children were living at home.