Reading Roald Dahl to a child means them being enraptured in a giant peach and then me digressing every now and then to explain why a nasty thing he wrote is nasty

"If worried parents start paying €100 an hour to bring children to jump around a hall to jostle someone from Grenagh, I won’t be surprised."

I know the opportunities to truly impress my children will ebb away over time. But within a few short years/ months/ possibly days, they will gradually realise my weaknesses.

Charity shops can be handy for toys. They allow you to say yes to a child you’ve been saying ‘no, that’s too dear’ to all day in the New Toy shop

I remember being a teenage boy, spitting was a skill to be honed.

It has the industrial vibes without any of the pretentious codswallop

Is there any justification in haranguing Irish Rail to sell sweets again? Could we do a petition?

No matter how tenuous the link, my brain found a connection with maths and Marlo from The Wire

'The dashed expectations of summer are in-built into our small talk conversation, our attitude, and our literature'

From preserving postcards to my grandfather in 1915 to reminiscing over old football magazines, archiving paper documents is a masterclass in nostalgia